


Artisan

by reminiscence



Category: Higurashi no Naku Koro ni | Higurashi When They Cry
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Gen, ffn challenge: 100 prompts 100 MCs challenge, ffn challenge: diversity writing challenge, word count: 20000-49999 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminiscence/pseuds/reminiscence
Summary: They were painted in a gory abstractness under his brush and few of them knew what was really going on. And Rika had long missed her chance of saving Keiichi, and had so also lost the world.





	1. prologue

The others usually showed signs by now. So she knows it was Keiichi's turn again.

There was a pattern. Multiple patterns, and she was working them out one by one until chance and her interventions would give her the perfect board. Right now she had gotten a pretty good spread, and she was optimistic. Keiichi was in Hinamizawa and so was Rena. Sometimes one or the other was missing, or both. The ones where neither arrived were the darkest of them all and she'd learnt to expect nothing from them.

But Rena was in Hinamizawa now and so was Keiichi, and in those worlds she dared to hope, dared to try.

And so that was what she wa going to do. Try.

.

The worlds where Keiichi was in Hinamizawa usually ended with him either dead or at the final stage by the time her own infallible death raven arrived. Sometimes it was both, but those were rare and hopeless by then anyway. Filled with regrets, ideas of what she could have done to change the passage of things, things she can try in the next timeline, or the ones after…

This time, her plan was quite simple. No-one was showing signs of Hinamizawa syndrome at the moment, which means most likely Keiichi will develop it after leaving town over the weekend for the funeral.

So all he had to do is not go, and she might be able to avoid one of her close friends being afflicted with the syndrome at all, and she'll have one more piece available to her than in the other worlds.

And once she stoppers that road, she can stopper it in all the worlds to come as well.

.

The trouble, as it always did, came with trying to convince people in her ten year old body. It wasn't the first time she'd come up with this plan. Except the first time had involved her turning on her ten year old cuteness charm to full power and attempt to convince Keiichi to convince his parents to let him stay.

Keiichi would humour her, perhaps, and there was no way the magician of words couldn't convince his parents of something he _really_ wanted. But things wouldn't go so smoothly. She knew that without even trying. Keiichi might never asked. Or he would but without the conviction that would really convince them, and they'd smile and shake their heads and say no, and he'd be off for the weekend as in those other worlds, where that parasite ate his sanity and mind. Because what was the harm of a two day trip for those who didn't know about or believe the existence of those parasites in the mind?

And he was eager to leave as well. A breath of fresh air, or the familiarity he didn't quite have in Hinamizawa because he was still so ignorant of it all. And maybe the slow country life had become too plain already. Maybe he just missed the city. Of people he was visiting. Or maybe he was worried about staying at home alone. Or maybe he just didn't believe her. All these reasons why he couldn't muster up the conviction to formulate a convincing argument – an argument she knew he was capable of if only she could light the fire properly under him. But how was she to do that? The simple pleading of a ten year old would never work.

Not that she could blame him, she supposed. At that point, he wasn't even aware that she was the priestess of the Furude shrine, or the head of one of the three great families, and that wasn't something easily remedied. It should have been: all she had to do was tell him, but the need to hide information, to give out only what was necessary and to hold the strings of fate herself got in the way time and time again.

And then it would be too late to do anything about it. Again.

In any case, that wasn't a fix at all. Even if Keiichi knew everything, would it change things? Doctor Irie knew everything. Nurse Takano knew everything. Both of them died in Showa 57 without fail. Just like she died in Showa 57 without fail. Maybe it was because knowing things wasn't enough, if one didn't act. Or maybe they simply could not believe the danger heralded by a ten year old, no matter what backed her.

No, she needed another way. More subtle changes. More controllable changes. Keiichi would learn the truth about Hinamizawa in his own time, or perhaps he wouldn't. That didn't matter. What mattered was saving him.

And if his leaving Hinamizawa, even for a short period of time, was going to cause the newly-fledged parasite in his mind to awaken, then he could not go.

She would have to stop him.

.

There weren't many ways for a ten year old to stop a sixteen year old leaving town, much less stop him permanently. In fact, she couldn't think of any way, short of locking him in the Sonozaki's secret cells, that would accomplish that. Temporary was easier, and far more humanitarian. Relatively humanitarian, in any case. Injuring him, making him sick, frightening him – because the begging of a ten year old child would probably go ignored.

Though it would cost her little to try at least once. Except crossing off another attempt on her list.

Doubtful he'd be suspicious. The adorable little ten year old she was came in handy there, where it hindered her elsewhere.

So there was her plan for this world…or the first of them. And here they were. Friday afternoon, just before the club Keiichi would soon announce his absence for… and this his trip into the city and the awakening of that parasite in his mind.

She could stop it. She would stop it. Would that be enough to stop Keiichi becoming a victim of this world? Or the unintentional villain? And what would happen then? She hadn't yet succeeded in saving any of her friends once the parasites reawoke. Not one. Not once.

Hundreds of thousands of possibilities. She would find the ones where her friends were saved. She would find the one where _she_ was saved – and, slowly, eliminate the other, undesirable, futures.

_If I save you here, I can save you in every world that follows from here._

And she would. She would.

She'd save herself. And save everyone.

She would. _I will._


	2. chapter 1

Chie-sensei was leaving. Rika watched her go.

It was an insignificant action in itself, but it set the stage: the stage she was expecting, and to some degree waiting for. A futile thing, perhaps, to wait for something set in stone because this distant relative of Keiichi's died in every timeline as well. And they were so removed from Hinamizawa that nothing she or chance did would impact that, or so she assumed.

And, from what she'd learnt from other worlds, the cause of death was entirely natural: natural and so unpreventable. And she didn't need to prevent it anyway, if she could get Keiichi to remain in Hinamizawa in at least the worlds that set him up as the black queen: just another pawn for the king, of course, but the powerful one that snatched her attention on the board.

But as much as she'd thought, as many scenarios she'd run through her mind and contingencies she'd planned for, she was doubtful. Doubtful because she failed every world so far, failed and failed and she needed a success somewhere down the line, something that would show her she _could_ change these unchangeable fates.

Chie-sensei was leaving. Rika watched her go, and then turned behind her. Keiichi was still explaining something to Mion and Rena. Something she could probably explain herself, after hearing those words in their exact form so many times. She could, but she never did. Too hard to explain why she understood those things she shouldn't. And too unnecessary. What mattered was what would come after the explanation.

And what she did there, or fate or some smaller chance event she hadn't stumbled upon as of yet, would determine Keiichi's fate in this world.

_I will save you…_

_Can I..?_

Mion sighed suddenly, and snapped his book shut. Keiichi closed his as well and swept his things into his bag.

Rika watched. He was about to say it. About to leave.

'Mion, I'm not staying for club activities today.'

So innocent…and yet so not. Keiichi had no idea: his voice calm and a little distracted as he double-checked everything. And Mion… she had no idea either. None of them did. Nobody except her and there was still the small (or maybe infinitesimal, but she hadn't had enough words yet to know for sure) chance that Keiichi would not wind up with the Hinamizawa syndrome through leaving her presence over the weekend – but she could not depend on that which hadn't happened yet.

Rather, she had to make those possibilities occur with her own hands, with enough control to be able to reproduce them in future worlds. Unless, of course, this was the one: the winning board. How lucky, if that was the case.

But somewhere, beyond the desperation and the need to save them all, was a part of her that thought she would be cheated out of truly _earning_ her victory, if that proved to be the case. A ridiculous thought, when loss meant her life and the lives of her friends and even success didn't guarantee the lives of her friends and she couldn't go on endlessly. They had a long time, still, but they'd started shrinking. Showa 58 began in January, and then February and soon it would be only June, repeating again and again, and then only the Watanagashi festival and how could she save her own life in less than a week? And then…the day, perhaps. But the day varied. When would she run into a world where she'd already died? And then that would be the end: the limit of Hanyu's power because the only body to return to would be a decomposing one, buried under the wastes of a nuked town.

Sometimes, her mind flew to that conclusion. One of three. Or Hanyu would abandon her to her inevitable fate – or she'd succeed in changing it. That was the one they banked on: the one that made them rewind her life again and again so that she could struggle in each of those worlds and possibilities anew. But it was the thought of being trapped in a dead body, in a dead town, after endless attempts and thinking that, just maybe, there had been a world after all where the possibility of her survival had existed but the odds simply hadn't been in her favour to lead her there.

And that was too cruel a thought. Too cruel.

The scraping of a chair snatched her attention back and she blinked frantically. Mion was still sitting with her back towards them – her and Satoko – but Keiichi was standing up.

She flew out of her own chair and almost fell on desk by Mion's elbow. 'Do you have to go?' she asked pleadingly, fighting the weight of worlds past and future on her back and trying to sound like the innocent ten year old she was supposed to be.

The window of opportunity for plan A had almost slipped her past. But she had it now, in her flimsy grasp.

_It's not going to work…but please let it._

.

Keiichi had been standing up at the time, and over Mion's head, he had a perfect view of Rika ricocheting out of her seat and almost into his desk. And he blinked in surprise. 'What's the fire?' he asked.

There was something hollow in her eyes when she haltingly replied. And her words – they were too light, too sparse. As though she was trying to hide the real reason she wanted him to stay, hide it behind flimsy excuses and she knew they were too flimsy and they wouldn't sway him – or his relatives, he supposed, since it didn't really matter if _he_ was swayed or not, since that distant relative he hadn't seen since he was a kid was still dead and the funeral was still going to happen over the weekend.

'You'll miss me?' he asked. 'It won't be long. Just the weekend.'

'Maybe Rika-chan is worried Keiichi-kun will decide to stay in the city,' Rena offered, though her lips were twitching in some kind of hidden mirth. There was something in her eyes too.

Something in everyone's eyes. Why was that? Or had he crawled his way into their hearts so thoroughly in such a short amount of time, in a way he'd never managed in the city.

He laughed aloud. 'You don't have to worry about that,' he said, and he honestly meant it. The few months in HInamizawa had left him happier and freer than his years in the city. He didn't need to try. He simply was. And they simply were as well, and between them and the spontaneity of their club and the vibrant life that managed to live in the simple country village…how could he ever get bored of such a place and march on back to the city where everything was too cramped and sparse and you had to fight over every bit of attention until it was worth the dirt underfoot?

But he didn't say all that. Couldn't say all that. Maybe he didn't even need to say all that.

And maybe the dark tinge in those eyes were in fact from his own, not wanting to leave them for even that small a time. But still, family was family and it really was only for the weekend. He wouldn't even see most of the parts of the city he'd come to hate. And he wasn't going there on a vacation or to lay demons to rest or anything like that. Just a quick visit, comforting family, mourning for a guy he barely remembered, and then hopping back into the easy-going but vibrant flow of his new Hinamizawa life once more.

He smiled again, realising he hadn't even been listening to the girls but able to guess what they'd been saying. And he ruffled Rika's hair, and then Satoko's as she came to stand beside her housemate.

Satoko scowled at him. 'I won't miss you, you know.'

He'd quickly gotten used to her bratty attitude. It was endearing, in its own way. 'Good,' he grinned at her. 'You can keep the others in check, then.'

She smirked back at him. Mion copied it. 'And the penalty. Three days worth, all waiting for you on Monday.'

'Lovely.' And the groan was only partially fake, because he'd had enough penalty games to know they weren't walks in the park. Even if the constant dragging out of his comfort zone was strangely liberating in retrospect.

.

Keiichi left after that, giving a general wave to their cluster and disappearing out the door. He appeared soonafter through the window, and then vanished from that view as well. Rika watched until Mion's voice and the shuffling of cards dragged her back, and she cursed herself lightly – because she'd always know that attempt, that plan A, was going to fail.

But that didn't mean she hadn't hoped it would work.

The others noticed nothing. She'd become at least passably adept at hiding thoughts of other worlds from them, and only got better with each new incarnation. She listened and gave her input and contributed to hashing out the rules of that afternoon's club activities, but her mind was at work elsewhere. About the pre-emptive measure she'd already put into place. And something else in the next cycle if he managed to dodge her trap. Because she couldn't really make someone sick on such short notice – at least not a controllable sickness, mild enough to not be dangerous but prominent enough to last for a few days. And that would take far more thinking, and perhaps even a chat with Dr. Irie…because sicknesses and stress were two things that awoke the parasite in the mind and she couldn't have that happening. Not here. Not for this.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Or out of one fire and into another – except she'd be responsible for the second flames, directly responsible instead of indirect: the situation of circumstance that found her friends suffering and dying, plagued, again and again…

She couldn't wait to get home so she could call the Maebara residence.

.

He didn't think to do anything but rush once he was home. He'd been eating breakfast when his mother dropped the bombshell on him, so he hadn't packed at all. They'd only found out that morning anyway, and waking him up ten minutes before his alarm wouldn't have accomplished much.

Still, he wished his mother had thought to pack for him while he'd been at school. Or kept him home so he could do it himself. Instead, she'd been packing her and her husband's things – including a rather bulky painting Ichiro had been in the middle of and simply could not abandon (because who knew when he'd be able to get into the right "zone" again) and Ichiro himself had been trying to organise transport on the short notice. People usually travelled away from train stations on Friday after noons, not towards them.

Still, surely that didn't take all day. But Keiichi arrived home to have his mother throw a few bags at him – a duffle and a backpack – and calling for him to hurry and pack because they were leaving in an hour and he could have a snack while they were en route.

So he raced up the stairs with the bags, because an hour really wasn't much time at all.

And why would he think there'd been something spilled on the stairs? He raced up and down them quite frequently and there was a strict "no food upstairs" rule in play. No reason why anything – not even a cup of water since there was a bathroom and individual cups for each of them.

Still, he slipped on the way back down: slipped and landed hard on one knee, because his arms were full. At least they'd cushioned his head. And he _was_ grateful for that, once he could think past the shooting pain. But that took a while. Because first he screamed. And then choked and cried because the pain of a fractured bone was _sharp_ and he'd landed with all his weight on that knee, enough to apparently shatter his patella.

Things were a frantic blur after that. His father carried him to the clinic, with him twitching and gasping and in pain from his half-straightened knee the entire way, while his mother raced ahead, panicking herself and explaining what had happened and how much pain he was in and entirely forgetting they had a train to catch in a few hours.

Luckily, the morphine took the edge off the pain, and he remembered the trip.

His parents simply stared at him. 'We can't leave you here like this,' Aiko answered, finally. 'Your leg might be broken!'

'Patella,' the clinic physician, Doctor Irie, confirmed. 'That's the small bone in the kneecap. And there's a bit of cracking on the tibia as well, but that will heal with time. And the patella will heal as well. Good news is that the pieces haven't moved around, so we won't need to do surgery on it.'

That was very good news, because surgery meant somehow getting to the city because a small village clinic simply did not have the resources.

Of course, there was bad news as well.

'We'll put a cast on your knee – a half cast at the moment, and a full one once the swelling resolves, and arrange some crutches for you. You won't be able to put any weight on your knee until the bone's completely healed – so that's at least six weeks.'

Six weeks without being able to play sports or ride his bike. Six weeks of dragging an extra weight around on one leg. _Oh boy…_

How did he manage to fall down the stairs like that, anyway?

But that thought was pushed away. Doctor Irie had led his parents off and Keiichi called after them: 'at least Dad should go, you know!' and hopefully they'd consider it, because family was family, after all, and important, and Ichiro knew his cousin pretty well before he'd moved away from the city even if Keiichi had been pretty young when that had happened.

.

Nobody picked up at the Maebara residence. Rika had to keep on stopping herself from gnawing through her bottom lip – or even trying the phone often enough to make Satoko suspicious. But then, a couple of hours later, Mion rang.

'Keiichi managed to fall down the stairs,' she supplied, and laughed forcefully. Buried under that laugh was her worry, because falling down stairs wasn't as innocent as it sounded and she knew that. Perhaps even better than most, due to the well one world had found her at the bottom of. How many more times would _that_ tragedy repeat, she wondered? As of yet, she had no clue what caused it – and therefore no clue how to stop it.

But right now, there was a different tragedy to put a stopper on, and a different plan. 'Fall down the stairs?' she echoed. 'Silly Keiichi.'

'Silly,' Mion agreed. 'Clean broke his kneecap. Doctor Irie had to put him in a cast. In any case, he and his mum didn't wind up going to the city.'

And there it is. The news she was waiting for. And she allows the silly grin to spread across her face because Satoko's cooking dinner and won't see it to question her, and Hanyu can understand what it means. _See. I changed things after all._

Hanyu frowned at her. She disbelieved. _Things can still easily go wrong._

But there's still an extra spring in her step as she hopped off to the pantry to set the table for dinner. 'Satoko? Did you make spare? Maybe we should take some for Keiichi-kun and his mother.'

Satoko laughed in the same forceful way that Mion had, worry in the undertone. There was something subtly different there, but Rika hadn't gone through enough worlds yet to work out what it was.


	3. chapter 2

Saturday saw Keiichi waking up with a stabbing pain in his knee, and luckily, it was reminder enough of what had happened to it. Part of him was still in disbelief. They'd had a smaller place in the city, sure, with size and cost restraints but the school had been filled with stairs and he'd so often found himself dashing on them to get to some class or other. And he'd never tripped so badly. Not enough to break a bone. Never got hit with a bat or tackled hard enough to break a bone either, though he'd played his fair share of sports and he'd sprained his wrist quite thoroughly one time. His non-dominant hand, luckily.

Unfortunately, legs really did need to be plural. He'd be stuck on the couch for a while and not being able to walk awoke a kind of restless in him, the sort that came from restraints. He wasn't the sort to tap his feet under the desk in class, but now that the option of moving from his couch was taken away, his good leg jerked restlessly and the couch, once soft, now periodically dug into his spine.

And by lunchtime, the television was getting rather boring as well. Though how many times had he dreamed he could simply relax: laze about on the couch and watch senseless things all day and not have to _think_. The grass was greener on the other side, of course. It always was. Now that he had the opportunity, he wanted anything but. He'd even take the stifling ride back to the city – but, of course, his father would be in the thick of the ceremony by then, wouldn't he?

Had Mion and the others made any weekend plans? He didn't think they had, or at least they'd mentioned nothing before his rather hasty and not well planned departure. He'd called Rena as soon as he'd been able to to let her know what had happened, and trusted she'd call the others. Considered Mion for a moment, since Mion was the President and he'd probably get grief from her when they next met…but he was injured and in pain and would rather have a quiet soothing voice like Rena's than Mion's sharp teasing.

Though, right then, he could definitely go for Mion's brand of cheering up. Not Satoko's though. Pranks weren't as effective when he wasn't mobile enough to trigger them. Though Rika's cuteness was always a refresher.

.

Rika slept poorly that night, and woke in the morning with the nagging feeling that something had gone wrong. She couldn't think of _what_ , though. There was no emergency meeting called, nor any frantic calls about missing friends or villagers. She called the Maebara residence and this time Keiichi's mother picked up and explained he was still sleeping, but she and their other friends were welcome to drop by after lunch.

Rika then called Mion and relayed that information. Mion called Rena afterwards.

But none of that explained the feeling that gnawed at her mind. Keiichi had not left Hinamizawa, and the next trip his parents took into the city left him behind in every world so she had nothing to worry about there. In any case, he would still be immobile then. _Because you spilt that stuff on the steps, hoping he'd slip._ And that was a stab of guilt she quickly brushed aside. A price she was happy to pay if it meant Keiichi would survive this year's festival – if they'd all survive it.

She couldn't afford to be complacent though. One change may alter the flow of fate, or it may not. Too often, it had not. Warning Nurse Takano and Dr Irie had never accomplished anything, after all. And that was another permanent fixture of these worlds. Their deaths, doomed to repeat alongside her own. If one of them had divine protection like Hanyu instead, perhaps she would have been the same side pawn killed over and over again…

_It would end_. If not in this world, then another one, soon. That was their power, after all. Their miracle. The hope that sent them into another possibility over and over, that kept her going far beyond her initial expiration date.

Perhaps the melancholy showed on her voice. Perhaps it was just the message from Mion she passed on to Satoko. Either way, Satoko swept her into a cooking frenzy after that, and the frenzy of her friends was always a good distraction.

Or, rather, almost always. Sometimes, it was the insanity that hinged on the level 5 Hinamizawa Syndrome. The insanity that hinged on impending deaths: others, their own, hers which would rewind the events once again and snatch away with it the identity of her killer, the oh so important piece of the puzzle… And if she didn't know, then Hanyu didn't know. And it was consistent in every timeline. Planned like that – except the one where she'd bled out in the Sonozaki's basement across from Satoko's dead body.

But Satoko was alive, humming to herself as she cooked and Rika carefully cut her vegetables, watching her fingers. She'd cut them often in the second world, and the third as well, before she'd learnt self-control once more. Her subconscious mind had learnt better by now, it seemed. Her fingers were blood free and Satoko was still humming by the stone, oblivious.

And, maybe, this time they could all stay that way. Safe. Oblivious. Passing into July of Showa 58 without knowing of the tragedy that had been averted, the tragedy she had so painstakingly avoided.

And maybe she was simply paranoid, and the world wouldn't just spin out of control again.

.

Ichiro didn't expect to grow restless on a two day trip, and yet it was barely halfway through the first and he found his head foggy and wishing for the fresh air of Hinamizawa again. Or perhaps it was the absence of his family he was feeling (especially since Keiichi had been in a half-cast and in pain when he left). Even when he had his exhibitions, Aiko would be behind him, helping set things up and pack them away and making sure he still had three square meals a day. At least Keiichi could handle cooking instant ramen. Ichiro hadn't managed to ever acquire that still.

Still, he liked to think his son's way with words had come from him…for the most part.

Sometimes, he wished Keiichi had been more direct, more perceptive of his own feelings instead of others. But that was their failing too. And they'd chosen their new beginning together.

Maybe it was coming back to the city after that new start, when they were settling into their new groove, their new way of life.

Or maybe it was the heavy air that hung over the funeral, and the mourning family.

Either way, the city was no longer home, no longer the familiar monotonous comfort he could lose himself within. Instead, there was something uncomfortable, something that had grown in his mind as soon as he'd left Hinamizawa and had continued to grow until it was stifling now. Simple homesickness? Aiko would certainly find that amusing when he got around to telling her.

But there was at least a day before he'd see her again, and Keiichi. Keiichi with his broken kneecap, holed up on the couch and always easily bored.

Maybe it was parental guilt at play.

Maybe he shouldn't have come after all.

.

The gang came by with lunch, though Aiko had already cooked and cooked extra in expecting them, so they made a party out of it. And a club meeting, because Mion could turn anything into an exciting game. This time, it was guessing who had made which onigiris – and the players were Satoko, Rena and Mion's grandmother.

Keiichi didn't think that was quite fair, since he'd never eaten Satoko's or Mion's grandmother's cooking before. Though Rena's shouldn't be that hard to pick out…right? Especially since he was immobile, leaving his brain free to distribute a little more attention to the rest of his body, including his tongue and the tastebuds they housed.

And it would be easiest to work that out before digging into his scrumptious lunch…right?

He picked up the one labelled A, and bit into it.

.

Rika watched carefully. This was one of her markers – for Keiichi at least. She wasn't too clear on the details of how or why Mion's little onigiri tasting game had led to delusions of murder plots, but she couldn't and didn't expect rationality from someone who'd succumbed to level 5 Hinamizawa syndrome. It might be too early though. In the other timelines, Keiichi would still be in the city. In less than a day, there might have been nothing at all to see.

Still, it was a test and she wasn't about to just ignore it.

'So,' Satoko whispered. 'Do you think he can guess?'

Rika shrugged. She had no idea, because the onigiri guessing game only popped up when Keiichi skipped club activities, and this particular case aside, he'd only done that when suspicion had driven him away from them. And, of course, in that frame of mind, Keiichi was in no condition to make a guess.

Though she knew the answer. Satoko's were the bitter tasting ones. Rena's the overly sweet. And Mion's grandmother had made none. Rather, Mion herself had added a few with Tabasco sauce.

And, for some reason, Keiichi always began with the one lettered A. And that was always Mion's Tabasco sauce one.

But his face didn't reflect that at all. Rather, he hummed in contentment and declared: 'Rena.'

And Rena beamed. 'Did you like it? You liked it!'

And Keiichi was nodding happily, grabbing for D.

And then he coughed and swallowed it quickly down. 'What the hell? That's bitter.'

Satoko couldn't stifle her laughter at that one. Keiichi gulped down half a glass of water, then grinned. 'Satoko!'

Satoko stopped laughing and glared. Really, she'd let herself get caught with that one.

And that meant the ones that tasted different to the two he'd already had was Mion's grandmother's – or, rather, Mion's.

Except when he picked up F and tasted it and declared this was Mion's grandmother's – and a perfect onigiri if he'd ever tasted one – Mion was chuckling and nodding her head. 'Looks like we were too easy on you,' she grinned. 'So you escaped the penalty this time.'

'So who gets the penalty?' Keiichi asked curiously, with a grin wide enough to almost split his face. Sport activities were one thing, but he tended to be on the losing end of Mion's games with all the cheating they did.

Rika was quite taken aback that there'd been no cheating involved this time. Maybe she was feeling sympathetic. Or maybe Mion decided Tabasco sauce wouldn't be a good idea for a guy with a broken kneecap.

Beside her, Satoko moaned into her hands. 'How did that idiot guess them all on the first try?' She elbowed Rika. 'You didn't think he would either, did you?'

No, she hadn't. But she was glad because that was a perfectly normal onigiri guessing game. A perfectly normal club activity.

'Next time, Rika-chan should make one as well.'

'No way, Rika-chan can prepare ingredients fine but she can't cook a fancy dish to save her life. Why don't you make the onigiri next time?'

'Sure… but I doubt you'll be able to chew them.'

'How can you be _that_ bad?'

Well, Rika thinks it's just as well cooking isn't a necessary skill to save her life. She can manage the basics well enough when Satoko's uncle comes for her, at least.

_I need to stop worrying._

.

He'd been a little worried about the onigiri, but the only prank had been Satoko's somewhat bitter ones. Still, they hadn't been inedible, and he had to colour himself impressed that she'd managed to make them delicious even with the very telling change. He didn't say as much to her, but he figured that managing to eat all four with only that first half glass of water was telling enough. And it wasn't that he needed the water to wash down the bitter taste. That was just strategy on his part, and he had proven it worked.

But who knew little Satoko could cook so well? He wondered why. Didn't her parents do the cooking for her? But he didn't ask. That might wind up rude – and, anyway, she might really like cooking. Nothing wrong with that at all. Probably better than being decent enough at it but doing it only as a necessary chore. He'd put his mother somewhere in between those two extremes, he decided. Her real passion lay with mystery novels.

Though right now, she was laughing with them and stealing an onigiri from the larger, unlabelled box the rest of them were sharing. All from Mion's grandmother, apparently. Rika and Satoko had brought rice and curry, and Rena a sweet looking cake (which Aiko quickly snatched away and put in the fridge for later), and his mother had made rice and soup and some fried fish. Plenty of food for all of them, and even leftovers to save the Maebaras the trouble of cooking dinner. And three final onigiri that Aiko sequestered away as well, saying Ichiro could enjoy them when he got back.

.

Everything seemed fine. Moving smoothly. No cracks so far as she could see – but the first world had been like that as well. She hadn't noticed her impending death until Hanyu had swept her spirit away to her second chance, back to a January she'd already lived and that had turned out to be little different then the first. Sure, it was someone else who succumbed to the Hinamizawa syndrome, someone else who unintentionally tore themselves and their friends and family apart – and yet that was still removed from her, because she wound up dead the same way anyway.

But she'd learnt. Slowly, she learnt. Realised which points were causative, which were triggers, which ones were the same in every timeline and which ones were always different. Like how most of Mion's club activities were different – except the competition that had been so meticulously organised that they'd wind up in exactly the same seats every time.

Not this time though, she realised. Not Keiichi anyway. No way he'd be able to peddle downtown. Which would circumvent Shion's descent into madness as well.

Which only left Rena and Satoko, but there was no sign of that woman or that man and both of them had appeared before this weekend. And Mion, but she'd yet to learn what would trigger her fall into Hinamizawa syndrome. It hadn't happened yet.

It didn't occur to her to worry that Keiichi's father had still left, that it didn't have to be one of their club to descend into madness, that none of this would prevent Takano or Tomitake or Dr Irie from dying, and none of it would prevent her death.

But if her friends were all safe, she could have the time to try and protect herself, at least.

Because the alternative was to give up on them and she couldn't do that. Not yet.

'Can you say the same thing a hundred worlds later?' wondered Hanyu, behind her and invisible to the rest.

_Who knows._ Hopefully, it wouldn't take a hundred more worlds.


	4. chapter 3

Though he was now on the train back to Hinamizawa, the fog in Ichiro's head was still present. It seemed to creep into his fingers as well, and the canvas he had leaning on the seat in front of him. Aiko and Keiichi would probably have been holding an end each if they'd come, but now it was spread across their empty seats. He'd called them before he'd left the city at least, to let them know he was coming back and that his mother had packed extra cookies for her incapacitated grandson.

Now he was toying with his charcoal, watching flakes dust the seats and the picture form under his fingertips. It wasn't quite what he had envisioned earlier, but there were no boldly marring lines staring back at him so he kept at it. Art was like that, after all. Never a perfect replication of what was in his mind at the time. And often it told him more than he would have realised on his other merits.

Like that self-decrepitating image he'd been painting in their last days in the city, while talking with the police and counsellors and real estate agents…

He shook his head. That was perhaps the single, most macabre painting of his career. It had sold for a good price, but the circumstances that had led to its formation should never have happened in the first place. And the blame was largely on them, occupied by superficial matters: his paintings, Aiko's stories, Keiichi's studies – they hadn't realised that Keiichi never wanted to spend his entire life studying so hard, never realised how firmly that pressure was crushing him, or how he was letting out, never even thought…

In a way, the sudden improvement of Keiichi's marks had thrown wool over their eyes. Their worries were gone, that Keiichi would eternally struggle with academics and be forced into the same cutthroat world of his parents. And he'd never expressed interest in doing so, either. Enjoyed reading his mother's books well enough – and her inspiration material, but was on the whole too down to earth to believe in curses and mystical fate-controlling forces that tended to creep their way into Aiko's books.

It was a surprising stroke of luck that they met Nurse Takano at the clinic when getting Keiichi's knee sorted out. Nurse Takano was _very_ interested in the occult, and Aiko had found herself a new friend.

Now there was a nicer topic to think about as he sketched…

.

Keiichi's Sunday had been a little less entertaining than Saturday. The others had come by in the morning with reading material, a few puzzles and more snacks before heading out to the baseball court. Rena had come by afterwards with a bunch of broken figurines to clean and repair, and Keiichi would have helped a bit with that even if he hadn't had a broken kneecap.

They chatted while they cleaned, and enjoyed the leftover snacks from that morning (because Keiichi couldn't in good consciousness eat all of that when he wasn't even mobile to burn it off). Chatted about Rena and her father, about Aiko and her latest mystery novel –

And then Rena's expression darkened when Keiichi mentioned his mother's interest in the old demon folklore in Hinamizawa. 'Trying to make another one of those occult mysteries,' he explained. 'She says it'll probably feel even more authentic, now that she's living in small country town with deep roots to –'

'Who told you?' Rena interrupted. She sounded surprisingly un-Rena like.

Keiichi blinked. 'Takano-san – the nurse from the clinic – has been telling 'kaa-san all about it. She told me a bit at lunchtime.'

Rena simply frowned. 'Takano-san is an outsider,' she said. 'She doesn't understand that the curse of Oyashiro is real.'

'Curse of Oyashiro?' Keiichi explained blankly.

Rena's expression cleared. 'Oh, she hasn't gotten to that part yet?'

Keiichi shrugged, bemused. 'Maybe, but 'kaa-san didn't mention it.'

'Well then,' and she smiled at him, reaching for a still grimy figurine. 'Remember that Oyashiro's curse is real.'

.

It was dark by the time the farmer's cart had dropped him off in front of his home, and with it came a sense of inexplicable relief. Still, there was an itch of something still. Something uncomfortable, just like in the city. As though he was caught between his old life and the new – but why? Why now when they'd been in Hinamizawa for a few months and his wife and son had so seamlessly fit in?

Why had he bothered to go at all? Sure, family was family but his immediate family was his wife and son and when they were grounded, forced to stay, he should have stayed as well. Perhaps it was just that guilt that itched at him. Or a restlessness to add paints and colours to the sketch he'd completed on his way and back. Or maybe he'd gotten addicted to the fresh country air and the city smog had been clogging his lungs without him even noting it.

Or perhaps he was just tired from a long travel and a funeral – both physically and emotionally draining, that – and he needed a good night's sleep or two. And maybe some coffee in the morning.

And a kiss on the cheek from Aiko who opened the door for him when he called, and a "welcome home 'tou-san" from Keiichi, still on the couch. Though he waved a hand – which, from the entrance hall, was all Ichirou could see from the top of the couch.

It made for a comical picture. Ichiro turned his laugh into a cough before replying.

'Are you sick?' There was shuffling and a bit of scrunching (had Aiko or one of his friends slipped him a bag of potato chips – or a few bags, by the sounds of it) before Keiichi's brown hair inched up one arm-rest.

Ichiro came around to save his son the struggle of wriggling up the couch. 'Nah,' he said, 'just tired. You known this old man to get sick?'

'Sure, 'tou-san,' replied Keiichi sceptically. 'Mostly from breathing in all those paint fumes.'

Ichiro ruffled his son's hair. It was a little matted and coarse from his immobile weekend, but he'd only been doing that since they'd moved here. Not since Keiichi was a little kid running all over the place and causing trouble, anyway. Hinamizawa had sort of sent him back to the kid stage, in that aspect. School wasn't too tough and everyone mixed together and were friends. And they walked together and laughed and were comfortable in completely ridiculing themselves at the end of their games. Had startled them the first few times, but Keiichi looked so carefree even with his face beetroot with embarrassment. Carefree and unrestrained in a way he'd lost all too quickly in the city.

''tou-san?' Keiichi asked.

Ichiro realised that he'd allowed the melancholy of his thoughts to slip onto his face. 'You're getting mouthy.' And he ruffled the hair again. But he made sure the relief and pride were both strong in his tone, so Keiichi couldn't misinterpret them. Better to be mouthy than closed off and let things stew as they had, after all.

And Keiichi grinned up at him. 'It's this place.' Of course it was. 'I'm glad we moved here.'

And that was all that mattered, right? He liked it here too. Just needed to find his own little niche was all.

.

The night was long. Ichiro tossed and turned beside his wife for a long time before falling asleep, and usually it was the other way. Aiko had her soft bedside lamp and a mystery novel or notes from something or other – notes, this time, by the looks of the worn notebook-like appearance – and she was often reading till late in the night and he'd fall asleep in the faint glow. But she'd turned off the lamp and settled down and he was still tossing and turning and staring into the complete darkness.

And when he did fall asleep, he dreamed. And at first, he hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep. Everything was dark, and there was no moon that night to slip through their curtains and illuminate his wife's splayed hair in bed. Just utter blackness so powerful he could see nothing else at all, and his breathing: harsh, heavy panting –

And footsteps, far away.

Normally, he would have wondered if it was Keiichi getting up to use the bathroom or for a glass of water, but Keiichi was downstairs on the couch and immobile. He had the crutches in reach in case of an emergency, but those were loud and with an entirely different sound than human feet, and Keiichi was still clumsy with them. So it couldn't be Keiichi, and Aiko was still asleep next to him…wasn't she?

He reached out to feel and she wasn't there. And the footsteps came closer.

He realised it was a dream when he managed to tear his eyes open and found sleep still clinging to them, and Aiko mumbling under his touch in the dark bedroom. Because she couldn't have crept back into bed without opening the door, and they'd left a lamp on downstairs for Keiichi and the light would have flittered through.

So a dream. Though it had been unnerving, hearing footsteps without a hint of as to who they belonged to.

He tried to settled down for the rest of the night. If he heard any more footsteps wandering about the house, he ignored them.

.

Keiichi wasn't at school on Monday. They were all aware of why, including Chie-sensei who simply gave a few worksheets to Rena to drop off on her way home. And school was remarkably quiet without Keiichi. Chie-sensei spent the most time with the younger students, as usual, though she did explain a few things to Mion and Rena – and Mion looked lost without Keiichi to re-explain things for them. Rena tried, but her explanations were far too abstract to make sense to straight-forward Mion – though Rika found herself thinking she wouldn't mind so much if Rena was the one helping her in her homework when even younger students would join the class (however many years that took). Though it might have been wistful thinking in more than one way. She had to live through June of Showa 58 first, and even if she did, a small village like theirs meant few babies were ever born. It had been four or five years, if she recalled correctly, since any babies had been born in Hinamizawa at all. Rena only had a couple more years of schooling left. And Keiichi and Mion too…

At least Mion, as the heir to the Sonozaki family, would remain in Hinamizawa in preparation for that role. But what would Rena do? She'd stay, after her scare last year, but stay to do what? And Keiichi? Keiichi who wouldn't have spent very long by the time his schooling was done. Would he go to university to study something? Take up an internship at the clinic because he was oh so strangely good with kids (not that Doctor Irie really needed any help). Where would the children growing into adults fit in? Where would the outsiders fit in? Keiichi's parents had brought their professions with them, after all, and that was the only reason why they managed. Openings in remote places like theirs only came with deaths. Keiichi had fit in so seamlessly here, but where would he be in two years?

And he hadn't fit in that seamlessly, she remembered. Those other times where he'd taken Satoshi's bat, even Satoshi's manner of ruffling Satoko's hair… He'd taken Satoshi's place. And maybe that was where he was meant to fit in. Where Satoshi had been. And wouldn't that be a problem in adulthood? The Hojous were the ones who'd advocated for change and they'd been shunned by the village for it.

The day went with her thoughts meandering carelessly.

.

After school was club activities…normally. Since Saturday though, they'd been relocating said activities to Keiichi's house. Rena had the stack of homework. Mion had stuff she wanted him to explain as well. Satoko had cooked again and Rika helped her carry them. They weren't bringing a game that day. Mion figured it would be more fun to play with Keiichi's crutches – even though, with his knee still in pain, he was probably going to lose each and every try.

It was all in good fun though. And if it helped get him mobile as well, then why not?

 _Because you're the reason he's immobile in the first place,_ her conscience reminded her.

 _It'll be worth it_ , the rest of her argued back. If none of her friends succumb to Hinamizawa Syndrome this time, then she'll have proved she can save them all and then all she'll have to prove is that she can save herself as well. And if it turns out she can't, at least they'll have a peaceful life, and a peaceful death.

'It won't go that way,' said Hanyu, as they neared the house. 'It didn't work, Rika.'

She couldn't ask what Hanyu meant out loud in company, but she shot the spirit a questioning glance anyway.

'Don't you see it?' Hanyu asked. 'Look. The madness is already stirring in that house.'

But Rika saw nothing at all, even hyper-alert as Hanyu's warning had made her. Keicihi was still grinning and laughing and being rather grumpy when he lost every game they played with his crutches and pouted adorably as she reached out to pat him on the head. Saw nothing at all as Aiko came in with cookies she said Keiichi's grandparents had sent for him, and some tea. Saw nothing at all as Ichiro came in smelling of paints and grinned at them all before snatching some cookies and a cup of tea and wandering off again.

_Where is it? Where is it?_

'You're not looking, Rika,' said Hanyu again.

_I am! Dammit, I am!_

But she could see nothing. Keiichi and Mion arguing about something or other before Keiichi sighed, offered the last cookie to Rena who passed it on to Rika who halved it and gave the other half to Satoko, before opening a textbook and reading the pages they'd presumably covered that day. Not normal, of course, but that was because Keiichi hadn't been bedridden in the couple of months he'd been in Hinamizawa so far. It was the first day since the Maebaras had arrived and settled in that Keiichi had not been at school with them.

There were always signs before level five. Always. And Hanyu said she could see them, so why couldn't Rika?

And why couldn't Hanyu just tell her.

'It's already too late,' said Hanyu behind her.

 _Of course_. She sighed, more than a little irritated as well by that point. Then forced a smile and cute expression on her face when Rena looked over at them. 'Rena's bored,' she said. 'Can Rena help Rika and Satoko with their homework?'

'Sure,' said Satoko brightly, and she dragged up both their books. 'Of course, we can't have this idiot – ' She poked Keiichi in the elbow, and the boy stuck his tongue out in return. Rika and Rena both giggled at the immaturity, and Rika felt her heart lighten.

Maybe Hanyu was just overly suspicious, just mistaken. Maybe there was nothing to see after all.


	5. chapter 4

It took a few days, but the painting was finally starting to come to life. He couldn't work on it for hours on end after all. His fingers got stiff holding the brushes or his head began to spin from the fumes. It was a pity, because what he loved about making art the most were the paints but the paints would clog his lungs and brain and kill him if he let them.

So more time was generally invested in sketching ideas on papers, filtering them, and transferring the final charcoaled sketches onto canvas. Or the preliminary work for even those: seeking inspiration, getting the fresh air his lungs ached for after being in the basement with the paints for so long (but the sunlight would ruin the tones, and so the dark and stuffy basement it was). And then the occasionally boring stuff he'd had no mind at all for until he'd married Aiko – he'd had hired help before that. Organising the paintings and galleries to exhibit them in, garnering interest, and actually making a living out of his hobby.

Aiko did about the same with her mystery novels, only it was with papers and pens and later a word processor, and she'd commission him to make the covers for her and really, the money was only exchanged in writing because they were married and the money went into the same home after all. Same went for her role as his agent or secretary or a mix of both of those things.

That was their work-life balance, and for the most part and quite a bit of luck, it worked.

.

Keiichi could finally stand without buckling in pain by Tuesday afternoon, so Ichiro found himself helping, then supervising, him around the living room. Not the stairs yet. Those would be dangerous with crutches and it was pretty painful on the knee still to try and crawl up them. But if he could manage the living room – and he did, though his remaining good leg had to keep on taking breaks and his armpits got sore pretty quickly – he could go outdoors for a bit.

He went on Thursday. By the following Monday, he was back in school and by then he was a little tired of his crutches, but grateful to be out of the house and moving about on his own.

He was still sleeping on the couch, because trying to get upstairs on crutches at night was still a very bad idea.

.

Rika was relieved to see a cheerful Keiichi enter the classroom, even if it was a cheerful Keiichi with crutches. Satoko scowled though – albeit it was the sort of scowl that said she hadn't realised he was coming back today (because the Maebaras hadn't mentioned anything to anyone except Rena who had his backpack slung over one shoulder) and she hadn't set up her usual traps for him.

Not that it would have been very fair, considering he couldn't dodge any of them. But that didn't stop her ranting about it, loud enough for the pair at the door to hear her and not stopping until Keiichi grinned, ruffled her hair, and commented on how nice it was to hear she missed him.

Which stopped that particular rant, but began a new one on how she most certainly did _not_ miss an idiot like him. But knowing how Keiichi had quickly wormed his way into her heart, very close to the spot reserved for Satoshi, Rika just smiled. And Keiichi seemed aware of that fact as well - or aware enough. The non-biting words did not bite, and that was the important thing, in the end.

Since Keiichi's teasing had been misunderstood in at least one world and the catalyst to Shion's madness… But Shion wasn't here, not a player in this world and therefore safe, safe in her faraway all girl's school when the curse of Oyashiro plays out in this time's Watanagushi festival.

Though whatever happened to Shion in such worlds, she didn't know. Her entire family dead, except for her. A family she both loved and despised. Would she press on, taking the mantle of the head of the Sonozaki family and the Yazuka that her grandmother and father both left behind? Or would she run from that, discard those things and start a new life - or not.

And of all those who died in the Hinamizawa Disaster - for she had no doubt the disaster _would_ take place as soon as (or even before) her death was discovered - how many of them would wander restlessly, aching for their regrets, their dreams, their still living family members and the questions that now no-one could provide an answer for? If any of her friends survived, one question would be the manner of her death, she was sure? Their games club would allow nothing less. Their friendship would allow nothing else as well -

But even if they did discover the truth in one timeline or the other, she was already cast out of that world and into a new one, into a new attempt. She could not gain that information. Could make no use of that information. It was unfair that the worlds went on without her and she was the one who could move between them, but also unfair how their deaths weren't set in stone but hers were… And unfair too, that there were other deaths than hers set in stone: the victims of Oyashiro's curse.

Keiichi moved in slowly, sitting in Mion's original place and Mion took Keiichi's. 'No excuse to not help with my homework today,' she grinned, and she had a point. Usually, it was Keiichi who turned his chair around to explain things. For the next few weeks, Mion (and perhaps Rena, taking turns) would turn their chairs instead.

_That's Mion for you,_ Rika grinned. Finding a solution to everything.

'But not this,' was Hanyu's reply, though neither she nor Rika had ever asked that of their friends. 'Not if you can't find the answer with all these worlds, all these reincarnations…'

And Hanyu had a point there. Rika was the one with the advantage, the one who had more information at her disposal than even the unseen enemy she fought. For there was an enemy, and that enemy was a human because only the human will could create such an absolute outcome as inescapable fate.

And yet she still hadn't found the mastermind, or even the way to save her life.

She had, at least, learnt a great deal more about the Hinamizawa Syndrome than she had in her original life. Then, she'd naively allowed samples to be taken from her body without seeking the results. Allowed that until the third world where she realised her parents death was directly after they refused to allow her to be a sample for Irie Institute any longer - and she stayed their specimen afterwards, because Satoko had been sinking even then, and of all her friends, Satoko was the one who was always at risk, who she always had to watch.

But that should be okay, because Satoko diligently took her shots even if she didn't know the truth of them and those shots had kept her at level three even as the world descended into madness around her. But not when something close to her strikes. Her death, perhaps, but she was never around to see that. Keiichi did it once, in his own parasite-induced haze when he'd killed her uncle in front of her. Made her scream and scream and scream until she'd run like a mad-child into the forest. Rika had never seen her again in that world, but she'd have probably died there alone, tumbled down a cliff or mauled by a wild animal or scratched out her own vessels until she bled out.

She couldn't get many spares of those anyway, not without stealing them and she couldn't possibly break into Irie Institute. Their security was so complicated, partially because they came from Tokyo and partially because such sensitive things were kept on the site. She still didn't know nearly enough about that place. And the absent needles would surely raise suspicion It would be easier to prevent the activation of that syndrome entirely - or get them to Irie Clinic somehow if that proved impossible so they could start a regimen. Assuming Doctor Irie recognised the symptoms early enough. He consistently missed them with Satoshi and she doubted it was on purpose, considering.

He either loved the two Hojou children very much, or he was unnaturally cruel and a good actor to hide his apathy again and again - but no, she couldn't think like that. Doctor irie and Nurse Takano were people she _had_ to trust because they were the ones with the vaccine and her only hope of suppressing the Syndrome. But they needed more time. She knew that. They knew that. So the objective for now was for both she and Nurse Takano to survive the June of Showa 58, so they could eliminate the curse once and for all.

But Nurse Takano was so...troublesome. Things tended to go about the same with her. She'd come up with all sorts of theories about the truth to the curse of Oyashiro for fun - because, as a scientist and nurse at Irie Institute, she already knew the truth few others did - and spread them. And someone - or several someones - would begin believing them. People like Satoshi who were sinking into the depths of the parasite in their mind. And each of her friends had fallen for it at least once as well and it wasn't even always one of them. And in the world where she'd tried to tell the truth, a riot not dissimilar to the dam wars had broken out.

And she was not her father. She could not placate them, calm them. Not even the people's love for the priestess and reincarnation of Oyashiro had been enough to calm the madness. She assumed that, in that world at least, that mass hysteria was directly responsible for her death.

She didn't try that again. She tried Doctor Irie and Nurse Takano… and Tomitake Jiro as well. They were non-negotiable. Losing all of them meant she'd lose the game even if she survived Showa 58 because what bard could keep the parasites in their minds asleep for eternity?

Not for the first time, she wondered what would happen if she did survive in such a June of Showa 58.

But it wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot. There may be nothing now to trigger any of them, or nothing she knew, but the Hinamizawa Syndrome was not one person's will and so it was malleable, and it would be far too naive to think another opportunity wouldn't come to trigger at least one of them. She had no way of finding out whether that woman or man or both of them had been caught by the Yazuka, or would return to Hinamizawa to prey on either Rena or Satoko or both of them. Troublesome people, that man and woman. Triggers to the parasite in four of her friends - Rena and Satoko directly, Keiichi and Shion indirectly. Four worlds that man and woman had caused tragedy in. For worlds out of the four in which they appeared in Showa 58 and she would watch for them. Watch very carefully indeed.

And watch for Shion and Keiichi as well, because her other trigger had been him. But there was no preventing Shion's leaving Hinamizawa. That happened far too long ago; she never went back that far. And did Shion's impromptu visits help or hinder her? Who could really say. It was the same with Rena. Too late to stop her mother from going to Ibaraki. Too late to stop those windows at the school from shattering, or the bones in those boys. Too late to stop the nails and knives, both like sharp sharp claws, cutting her arms and almost killing her, until her father whisked her back to Hinamizawa where the parasite sensed the queen in Rika's mind and slumbered once more.

Though maybe it would have been better if she was like Satoko and dependent on the injections. But even that wasn't a permanent fix. Wouldn't be. That one world, with Satoko's uncle returning and Keiichi succumbing to the parasite, had proven it. They needed the cure. The cure that wouldn't appear in Showa 58, not nearly soon enough to eliminate the myths of Oyashiro's curse.

And if someone - or multiple someones - continued to take advantage of Oyashiro's curse, even a cure wouldn't be enough. But at least it would prevent the prophesied disaster: the widespread madness that would descend with the queen carrier's death, when every parasite awoke as a level five organism and devoured its host's brain and reasoning. Mass insanity the likes of which she could not imagine and would never see unless she lived long enough to have a female child and passed on her status as queen carrier to her. And maybe not even then. So many things could happen. Death when not by the will of someone else was such a fickle thing.

'Rika.' _Hanyu._

She was thinking too much again. One thing at a time. Keiichi was safe for now. All her friends were safe for now. She had to keep an eye on them, yes, but now it was time to move on to phase two: preventing Oyashiro's curse from striking in the upcoming Watanagushi Festival - and that meant saving Nurse Takano and Tomitake Jiro.

.

Things had settled back into their normal rhythm...almost. Keiichi had gone back to school that day, but on crutches and Ichirio had carried him part of the way. And picked him up as well. But aside from that, things went as normal. Husband and wife chatted over the breakfast table, with Aiko telling him all about the nurse she'd made friends with and the stories about Hinamizawa she'd told about.

Frightening tales, honestly, but Aiko was a mystery writer and often that coincided with horror or the supernatural or both of them. Her books, at least, and he'd never needed to look for a book without that trait. But being bound to a village, unable to escape? That took country loyalty to a whole new level.

And, of course, those stories were inspiring his next series of sketches. Inevitable, really. And oddly appropriate, though he was sure they would be shallow and superficial in the face of those people who'd grown up on those tales. Perhaps he should ask around - or ask an opinion later. Perhaps he shouldn't paint a curse after all. Would that be disrespectful to the gods the Hinamizawa folk worshipped?

The basement was dark, with the swinging light bulb giving only as much light as he needed and preserving the colours otherwise. He didn't need the colours that day, sketching on paper as he was, but he needed the darkness, the atmosphere. But there was something too concrete about his sketches. Too...ordinary, too basic, too plain.

He stood up and switched off the lights. The basement descended into complete darkness and he felt around for his pad and charcoal and began to sketch again.

Sound was amplified like that: his breathing, the hollowness of wind moving outside the walls, the grating of charcoal on paper and the slight rustle as his sleeves brushed against it and the wood of his desk. And, after a while and when the symphony had settled into a monotone, footsteps above his head.

_Probably Aiko,_ he told himself, and why wouldn't it be Aiko? She was home, cleaning the house and especially the living room, now that Keiichi had given it a well-deserved break. And yet his pulse quickened anyway, irrationally. He gritted his teeth and ignored the sound, and the charcoal dug into his fingertips.

.

That night, the footsteps came again. Aiko slept soundly beside him. Keiichi was downstairs and on crutches. His sleep-clogged eyes caught the lamp light under the door when he sat up and nothing else. The curtains were closed tight against the shallow of the crescent moon.

And the footsteps were still there. Wandering somewhere. Upstairs? Downstairs? He slipped from his bed and out the door as quietly as he could to avoid waking Aiko, and then down the stairs when the upper level was clear. Nothing in the kitchen except shadows from the light outside (and one day they'd remember to get some material to make curtains for there as well), and the lamp in the living room.

And something shifting. He froze in the doorway. Froze until Keiichi's head popped up, hair tousled and voice heavy with sleep. ''Tou-san?'

'Go back to sleep.' Ichiro could have hit himself. How silly he was, jumping when he as the one who'd probably woken his son up. There were no footsteps now. Nothing except his son settling back onto the couch. 'Just got up for a glass of water…'

''Kay,' and Keiichi yawned. 'Night 'tou-san.'

'Good night.' And then he madea truth out of his lie and got his glass of water and gulped it down (and was glad Keiichi hadn't been awake enough to question why he simply hadn't used the upstairs bathroom instead) before creeping back upstairs.

The footsteps followed. He froze on the landing. There was no-one behind him - but when he got to his door, Aiko was awake as well, blinking owlishly at him as he settled back down.

'Gomen,' he murmured. 'Didn't mean to wake you.'

For some reason, her answering smile made his skin crawl, before she turned and settled back into sleep.

It took a lot longer for him.


	6. chapter 5

Oyashiro's curse. They all knew it, but not one person - not even Furude Rika, the reincarnation of Oyashiro himself - knew the truth of it.

Takono Miyo didn't know the entirety of it either, but she knew enough for it to have become a powerful tool in her arsenal. It was her life's work, after all. She had invested far more time and blood into it than anyone else, and she would get exactly what she wanted out of it.

Once upon a time, she may have cringed at the sacrifices it demanded of her. Perhaps if she was still Tanashi Miyoko, living happily with her parents and without the knowledge of the world's cruelty, of God's cruelty and the ultimate challenge she'd encountered and succeeded - and this was her reward. The chance to destroy that God and take his place and it didn't matter what it would cost to gain that. She'd sacrificed enough before that. Her father's reputation. Her parents' lives. That time in the orphanage. The friend who'd been gourged by the chickens in the pen as punishment for their escape. And the smell and taste of urine and faeces and menstrual blood in her mouth and nose and throat as she was left there to squirm and suffer and drown until she died - except she'd made a bet with God by then and survived.

After that, the lives of the masses didn't mean much. Especially when her life changed direction, when she became Takano Miyo, the granddaughter of Takano Hifumi, and when she learned about the Hinamizawa Syndrome. A parasite that could control the mind and it made her laugh at the unfairness of it all, and the hilarity of religions around the world. This was their God? But no, the God that she had challenged and defeated was another sort of God: a god of coincidences and absolutes, who played the puppets en masse instead of controlled just the one and it was a fascinating subject. She loved it. She wanted to know the truth of it.

Others laughed at Takano Hifumi's research for an entirely different reason. They simply couldn't comprehend a parasite controlling their minds.

_Humans...always thinking themselves superior._

So she had to surpass them.

And here, at the end of June of Showa 58, would be the cultivation of all she had achieved.

.

'You're in danger, Takano-san,' said Rika gravely. Nurse Takano had a needle in her vein, drawing out blood, and Satoko and Doctor Irie were in the other room for the former's checkup.

'Danger?' asked the woman lightly, pulling the needle out and dabbing at the spot of red that appeared. No blood appeared on the cotton wool, so she hummed in approval and stuck a band-aid there instead. Rika didn't twitch at all throughout. She'd had a multitude of needles after all. And if these reincarnations continued, she'd one day exceed needles per day her body had been physically alive. A morbidly amusing thought, and that commenced a spiral of equally morbid and useless thoughts.

They were useless because she had to find the solution to those worlds, and she couldn't afford to sacrifice even one of them for information because who knew when Hanyu's power would run out, when her well of chances would finally run dry.

And Nurse Takano and a chance to convince her to be wary was in her hands.

'Danger,' Rika repeated solemnly. 'On the day of the Watanagushi Festival -'

She was cut off. She'd half-expected it, but it was still frustrating. Frustrating that Nurse Takano wasn't listening, wasn't understanding.

'I don't like her,' said Hanyu from behind.

_Because she's an outsider?_ She didn't understand nor respect nor fear Oyashiro like the rest of them. Nurse Takano was the epitome of disrespect in Hanyu's eyes - but that didn't make her a bad person, and it didn't mean she deserved to die after being stuck in a barrel in a cold mountain and set alight.

Nurse Takano was still laughing. 'The curse of Oyashiro?' she asked. 'Because I'm an outsider here? Because I'm trying to find the truth to the curse?'

'Maybe.' Because Rika didn't know the reason. Nurse Takano annoyed people of the village, yes, but she also helped them. She didn't know of anyone who would want her so consistently dead. 'I don't know why - but I do know you'll vanish on the night of the Watanagushi festival - and they'll discover your body on a cold lonely mountain, stuffed into a canister and burnt.'

She'd stopped laughing at least, and regarded the other thoughtfully. 'Is this one of your predictions, priestess?'

'It is the future,' Rika replied, because it was not a prediction but what had occured in every other lifetime she had borne witness to so far.

'Really?' And Nurse Takano was still smiling as she saw her to the door. Satoko was waiting there. Doctor Irie was nowhere in sight. 'I guess i'd better start praying to your gods, then.'

Rika pursed her lips. About the same as her other conversations with the woman.

'I don't like her,' said Hanyu again, as Rika took Satoko's hand and went with her down the stairs.

_At times like this,_ she agreed silently, _I don't like her either._

.

How to stop Takano and Tomitake from being killed was a whole lot more complicated than trying to keep Keiichi in Hinamizawa. Her first few ideas were pathetic. A ten year old could hardly overpower two adults - especially with one of them as muscular as Tomitake. Worse, on the night of the Watanagushi festival, the pair were together. So if she was going to incapacitate them, it would be far easier to do it earlier.

But how could she do that and prevent their attending the festival? And would that even prevent his death? Takano's might be plain murder (because how else did a body wind up stuffed in a canister on a cold mountain far away from home and charred) but Tomitake's looked more like Hinamizawa Syndrome. Scratched out his own throat and bled to death, or so Ooishi had told her a few times. Scratching out one's throat was something she'd seen a few times, all as a result of achieving level 5 of the syndrome.

So how to stop that? He said he was already on prophylaxis, and that he'd keep an eye out. Better than Nurse Takano, but he'd said that in other worlds as well and still wound up dead. It couldn't be just the Hinamizawa syndrome, then. The constant occurrence proved it was deliberate. Someone wanted Tomitake Jiro dead. So they were mimicking the appearance of level five Hinamizawa Syndrome to mask the murder trial.

Because the villagers wouldn't allow any further investigation if they thought he died from the curse.

Especially if he did something to invoke, at least from the perspective of the villagers, the wrath of Oyashiro.

.

She didn't discover it until Keiichi mentioned it in one world, and she'd confirmed it for herself in the next few. But Tomitake and Takano had a tendency to sneak into the ritual tool shrine the Furudes guarded. Hanyu was fairly sure that _wasn't_ what invited the curse of Oyashiro on them and Rika was inclined to agree - particularly as she was the guardian of the shrine and wasn't exactly going around dishing out their punishment.

Also, it didn't happen in every timeline. But Tomitake and Takano were always dead. And breaking the pattern as well. The other years, one died and the other was spirited away by the demon and the ones who disappeared were different in every world. Sometimes, they didn't disappear at all. But it didn't matter. She'd die before the curse fell apart. And with the queen carrier gone, madness would descend upon the inhabitants of Hinamizawa. And she'd be reincarnated in a new world, with a slightly different setup, attempting to save her life once more and to do that, she needed to prevent the curse from taking root.

One thing led to another. It was a cascade effect, and she was struggling to find the right place to put the stopper in it. Preventing the curse from manifesting in any of her friends had no relating to Tomitake's and Takano's deaths - or none that she could see. The curse manifested seemingly at random, though she thought she had the pattern down. Tomitake's and Takano's deaths on the other hand were fixed. Someone's will was making them happen - which, really, meant they should be more preventable. People were easier to trifle with than chance...but she didn't know the mastermind, the puppeteer. So she had to do something about the pawns.

Which led her back to attempting to prevent their disappearance during the Watanagushi festival. And she couldn't watch them, being on stage at the time. The dance she'd practised so hard for that first year, but could perform in her sleep without revision now. Still, she pretended to make mistakes. It would be too strange otherwise. The less eyes on her, the better to move in the shadows...but she was the priestess of Hinamizawa, the head of one of the three great families and the reincarnation of Oyashiro. There was no hiding in the shadows with a spotlight like that on her head.

And someone begrudged her enough to kill her in each and every one of those worlds.

Why? Why kill her? Why kill Tomitake and Takano? What was she still missing?

And how could she stop it?

'Are you sure you haven't had enough?' asked Hanyu.

'No,' Rika snapped at her. 'I haven't. I'll find the answer. I'll live past June of Showa 58.'

'Hmm..' She didn't rebuke the claim, nor did she accept it. Hypocritical of her, seeing as she was the one who'd first given her hope and whisked her away from her one true death. 'This world is lost, though.'

'Why?' Rika asked. She still didn't know. She hadn't tried to stop Tomitake and Takano yet. There was still time.

'Because I know you - ' Hanyu shook her head, and vanished. 'You'll see, eventually.'

'Hanyu!' Rika snapped.

But Hanyu did not respond.

.

She could try and stop them from going into the ritual tool shrine, but would that accomplish anything? She'd already decided that wasn't the cause of their consistent deaths, but if she had to mask her intervention as something else, the curse of Oyashiro could serve her as well as their many-time murderers.

There was still the problem of overpowering two adults: adults that would, as well, be looking very closely at the ritual tool shrine (unlike Keiichi and the stairs). So the simple oil on the steps method wasn't going to work. But she could plan traps. Maybe she could ask Satoko for ideas - or use the ideas Satoko had come up with in other worlds. Still, she couldn't tell Satoko why. Couldn't risk that. Not after getting that far.

Even if Satoko would have jumped at the chance to set traps, after being cheated out of her latest guinea pig.

.

Their weekend club activity was going to Mion's uncle's game store. The site of a trigger in another world but this time Keiichi wasn't with them, unable to ride his bike or cycle that far. In those other worlds, Keiichi would win a doll as a prize and give it to Rena. Mion would be upset - because keiichi was the one thing that could tangle her tongue. And then word would get back to Shion and the fragile balance would be tipped…

But if Keiichi wasn't there, he couldn't get a prize.

Mion had no trouble winning the game that time around, and the doll went no-where. She won back the prize money she'd put out - the only world so far in which the true prize went out.

A seemingly insignificant thing, but another bullet dodged.

It was a shame that Keiichi's absence was necessary for that to happen.

.

Keiichi was napping on the slope outside. Ichiro had finished his sketches and selected a few to transfer onto a canvas, and so had decided to do that in the fresh air as well. Aiko was inside, humming as she cooked. She'd promised a picnic for the three of them. A picnic on their front lawn.

Ichiro slowly sketched. The charcoal darkened his fingers and the back of his neck prickled. _Are people staring?_ But the streets were, on the whole, empty. Just Keiichi napping there, Aiko cooking in the kitchen. She could be looking out from time to time. Or Keiichi could open his eyes, stare a while and then nod off again.

But why would either of them cause his neck to prickle like it did? Like he was the hunted, the prey, and someone in the shadows was the stalker.

_Those weird footstep noises are making me angsty._

And suddenly, he could hear footsteps again. He fought the urge to turn around.

'Hello, Keiichi. Hello, Keiichi's father.'

Oh, just Rena.

'You can call me Ichiro.' He smiled at her. She was a preppy girl. Quiet and passionate. He liked her. Liked all of Keiichi's friends. A bad influence in city terms, but Keiichi needed that kind of influence.

She smiled at him, grinned a bit wider at Keiichi who had started at her sudden appearance and then scooted over to give her a spot between them. 'Watchya drawing?'

'Oyashiro's curse,' he responded without thinking.

She stiffened, still standing. 'Oyashiro's curse,' she repeated, and there was something different in her voice. Something...empty.

He lifted his eyes from his work and fixated on her. She stared back at her, her face unusually serious, before shifting to the painting again. 'Footsteps,' she surmised. 'Footsteps in the shadow...and when you turn around, there's no-one there.'

That was exactly it...but how did she know?

She looked at him again. 'Do you hear voices as well, ichiro-san? Repeating the same thing, over and over?'

Ichiro stared at her. So did Keiichi. 'Rena?'

She blinked, shook her head, and smiled. 'Rena's being silly.'

Keiichi relaxed. But even when Rena had wandered off and declined joining them for their picnic, he thought about her words.

He hadn't heard voices, but the footsteps...were they really a part of Oyashiro's curse?

.

His final outline turned out a bit different to the sketch. Ichiro chalked it down to Rena's intervention. She asked Keiichi about the story, who asked Mion, who gave him the bare-boned details to feed back. Apparently, she believed she'd been inflicted with Oyashiro's curse about a year and a half ago. Was living in Ibaraki at the time and was in a bad way. Came back to Hinamizawa and had been a lot better since.

'But she said people rarely leave Hinamizawa,' Keiichi finished. 'It seems to be frowned upon.

'It's a small country town,' Ichiro shrugged, but there was a crawling sensation in his skin as he thought about it, trapped in the tiny no-where town.

_But is that really bad? Keiichi and Aiko are both happy here._

'Guess it doesn't matter.' Keiichi shut his eyes again. 'Feels like I can be a kid forever, here.'

_Trapped and unable to grow, just like Peter Pan in that Western tale..._


	7. chapter 6

The preparations for the Watanagushi festival were in full swing. Rika found her days swamped with practice again, and was missing club activities because of it. Often, in the mind-numbing routines she had to make sure to trip up just enough on, she wished she could show how well she really knew it and then skip off - but she couldn't. That would be rude, and unnatural.

But it held her up. Meant she couldn't keep as sharp an eye on her friends as she wanted to - even if they all showed up, even a Keiichi on crutches, to help out with other manners of preparation.

And Keiichi was finally introduced to Tomitake Jiro.

It wasn't an earth-shattering moment. If it ever was in another world, then Rika had not born witness.

But Rika repeated her warning with the chance she had. Tomitake repeated that he'd be careful - and she wondered if he was taking her seriously at all.

But if they didn't listen, then she'd stop them another way. It had already worked once, after all.

.

The days pass by, much the same. The preparations suck up more and more of their time and she was barely able to set up her traps (and credit to Satoko, both past and present, for that) in the Saiguden before the night of the Watanagushi festival arrived.

There was still no Shion in this reincarnation. One less friend to worry about. One less friend to watch out for. One less person to plan for, to try and trip up. One less player on the board to move - but couldn't that be a disadvantage later on as much as it was an advantage now? When she worked out what enemy she had to fight, more people on her side would to be better. It was a complex game and she couldn't see the whole board, let alone juggle all the pieces on it and -

_And what? Would I sacrifice any of my friends if I had to?_

No was the easy answer, the answer she wanted to give and would have in a heartbeat in the first wall and even in the second one. But after that… _How many deaths have I seen? Too many…_

'Rika…'

She shook her head at Hanyu. She couldn't give up on them. She couldn't - because then who would fight for them?

But right now was the time to save Tomitake and Takano.

.

They were at the Saiguden. At least this time they hadn't dragged Shion or Keiichi or both them into it as well. Just the two of them, with Tomitake picking the lock. Rika didn't stop them. After all, she was about to bring the curse of Oyashiro on them - or she hoped. It depended on how easily they'd be able to read her traps, how easily they'd avoid them.

And she had the scythe in her hand as well. Intimidation factor, she told her shaking hands. Just to drag their attention away. Make them careless. Make them stumble into one of her traps if they didn't do it by themselves.

The lock fell. Tomitake looked one way and then the other, not seeing Rika waiting there.

'I'll go in,' said Takano. 'You coming to or waiting outside/'

'I'll keep a lookout.' And he grinned at her before sitting on the steps.

Rika growled under her breath, but that was okay. She was small and she knew the ritual tool shrine. She could sneak in. Not with the scythe though.

Or maybe the shrine maiden image would scare Tomitake-san away. She could only try.

'Leave!' she commanded, loud enough for the photographer to catch her voice but not Takano within (or so she hoped). 'Trespassers of Oyashiro's shrine, leave before my curse is cast upon you.'

Tomitake straightened up, peering into the darkness, trying to see her in the shadows she hid within. 'Hello?' he asked.

He didn't sound frightened in the least. _And I told him he'd die today as well._ She growled again. Proof he was simply humouring her. Proof he didn't believe her. _Fools, the both of them. And here I am, trying to save their lives._

She could have cried. She could have screamed loud and with abandon but she couldn't do any of those things right then. Had to keep on trying. 'Leave!' she demanded again, loud and low. 'The curse of Oyashiro seeks its payment this night.'

Tomitake stared her way a moment longer, then turned to call out for Takano. Rika slipped away, leaving the scythe in the woods and scaling the wall. She could still hear their voices. Tomitake, explaining that a villager was trying to scare them away - not a problem per say, but concerning in that they had so easily implicated themselves. But Takano didn't seem concerned in the least.

And when Rika was on the roof and could peer through the high window, she saw her touch his arm and smile. 'It's okay,' she said, before spinning on the spot. 'Come, look at all this. Isn't it amazing?'

'Guess I'm more of a nature guy,' said Tomitake indulgently. Like Takano was a child and he was her baby-sitter - and they kind of looked like that, right then. Or a couple on a date with Takano as the more immature partner.

But they were both immature, weren't they? Not heeding her warnings. Not taking care. Sneaking into the Saiguden when they knew - even as outsiders - that it was forbidden. Maybe Keiichi didn't know in this timeline, if it hadn't come up in conversation, but everyone else knew. Tomitake and Takano both knew.

No-one mourned in the worlds where word of their transgression had gotten out. No-one except perhaps for her who knew her own time was too close now and she had no more moves to make and it was more the lack of opportunities and her impending death she mourned. It tended to be days after the fact in any case, when the rest of the town found out. Sometimes, it was the last thing she recalled before it all went blank and she awoke in a new world.

And those two seemed unable to grasp that horror, no matter how many worlds she warned them in.

'Leave,' she demanded again. 'Oyashiro angers.'

Takano looked up and smiled. 'Are you trying to scare us away, Furude Rika-chan?'

_How did -?_ She started, and suddenly there was someone behind her, someone tall and strong. Her heart thudded in her chest. Was that her killer? But no. He grabbed her yes, but carefully and only carried her down and into the Saiguden.

And then there were four people in the Saiguden, and three of them were tresspassers.

.

'This is Okonogi Tetsuro,' Nurse Takano introduced with a smile, as though they had met in the clinic or the library or just passed each other on the road. The same tone of voice she'd used in a few worlds, including this one, to introduce Tomitake to Keiichi as well. The voice that made Rika want to grit her teeth sometimes, because it meant she wasn't taking the situation seriously at all.

At least there was no need to smile and act cute here. Rika frowned at all three. 'You're trespassing in the Saiguden,' she said. 'Those who enter without permission from the shrine keepers are cursed.'

'By Oyashiro?' Takano bent down and smiled. Still seeing a child telling a make-believe tale. 'Then could you give us permission, Rika-chan? We mean no harm.'

'Curiosity kills the cat, Takano-san,' Rika replied, still frowning. 'You broke the lock. Permission now is too late.'

'Oh dear.' And Takano straightened up. 'I suppose I should gravel at Oyashiro's feet and beg for forgiveness then.'

Hanyu didn't like her tone. Not at all. Neither did Rika. 'It is respect they demand,' Rika replied. 'Be careful on your way home, or else –'

'We'll be spirited away by the demon?' asked Takano.

Her frown deepened. She was still not listening. What would convince her.

She looked at the other two. Tomitake was looking between the three of them and finally settled on Rika. 'Do you know who carries out the curse?'

The other man, Okonogi who Rika hadn't yet met in any other world, said nothing and simply stood tall, like a bodyguard.

'Oyashiro carries out his judgement,' Rika answered. A truth, but also a lie. Misdirection. Who would be responsible for Takano's and Tomitake's deaths still eluded her.

Takano laughed again. 'Okonogi, think you can handle an angry god?'

Okonogi shrugged. 'I can handle humans, no problem.'

'And so can the rest of the Yamainu.' And Takano smiled at Rika. 'They're the security for the clinic. They'll protect Jiro and me and of course they'll protect Okonogi too.'

Was this new? she wondered. Was this something that could change the tide?

Hanyu was oddly silent.

'Can they save me as well?' Rika wondered aloud, her voice suddenly small.

The three looked at each other, and then it was Tomitake squatting down to her height in an attempt to comfort her. 'What do you mean? Is someone threatening you?'

'I – ' She remembered explaining this before, to a man on the outlook, a man who'd claimed to be a tourist but was in fact from the police. He never did come back. 'I saw a vision – that I die after this year's Watanagushi festival.'

'And Jiro and I die tonight,' said Takano. She was calm, but at least she wasn't laughing or smiling now. 'How about Okonogi here?'

'I don't know.' Rika shook her head. 'I have never seen him before.'

'Flattered, Priestess,' said the man, sounding in part amused. 'But if you want our protection, we would be honoured to offer it to you.'

'The Yamainu?'

That…might change things after all. A small glimmer of hope snuck in.

And then she jumped. Nurse Takano had clapped her hands. 'That's settled then.' She was sounding chirper again. Too chirper. 'Now I think I'll go and enjoy the rest of these festivities. Rika-chan, you have your dance coming up, right?'

She nodded slowly. She was still processing.

Takano waved cheerily and left her there, standing in the middle of the Saiguden with the broken lock still on the steps.

.

'What do you think, Hanyu?'

'She is careless and disrespectful,' was Hanyu's reply. 'But perhaps the Yamainu can be a piece for you to play on later boards.'

'Why not this one?' Rika growled at her. 'You speak as if this world's already gone but you still haven't said why!'

Hanyu just looked sadly at her. 'Did you see all your friends at the festival?'

'Of course I did,' Rika snapped back. 'You were there with me.'

'And did you see their families?'

'Of course not.' Rika rolled her eyes at that. Just where was Hanyu going with this line of thinking? 'No Shion in Hinamizawa in this world. And Rena's mother's in Ibaraki. And Satoko's parents and mine are dead. I saw Mion's parents and Keiichi's – ' And then she stopped. 'Keiichi's mother.'

'No father.' Hanyu nodded. 'His father left Hinamizawa for a weekend to attend a funeral.'

'But – ' Her brain seemed to freeze. 'But –' But what? There was nothing to say. Nothing to do.

How could she have not thought somebody other than her friends could have their parasites activate before the Watanagushi Festival of Showa 58?

'It's too late,' said Hanyu. 'The parasite has been awake for a fortnight now.'

'That's – ' And her hands formed useless fists. Useless because there was no enemy she could punch to fix this mess. _I'm sorry, Keiichi._

Then shock rippled through her a second time. Keiichi was still in danger! And so was his mother!

'Damn it,' she muttered, her breaths quickening and her heartbeat thudding away in her head. 'Damn it. What –'

'It's too late,' said Hanyu again. 'You can only live to the end of this world, and try again in the next one.' And her voice was as heavy, as defeated, as it had been in almost every other world. It was too hard, going from one possibility to the next and never finding it: never finding the solution they sought.

.

She returned the scythe to its rightful place in the Saiguden and closed the door. The lock she left as it was, and perhaps that was the childish, angry part of her that left it as it was. It would be the proof of their transgression – or if she found the ritual tool shrine locked when she next returned, it meant they weren't as careless as they appeared.

But that didn't explain the other worlds. Why they listened to her warnings but showed up dead and victims of that farce of a curse every time.

And then there was the Yamainu. How would they play in to the events of the Watanagushi festival of Showa 58? And why hadn't they been in the previous worlds.

It was also possible that they _had_ been present in those other worlds – but then that meant they were no good at all. Not when it came to preventing Tomitake's and Nurse Takano's deaths. Powerful enough to defeat or get around a team of bodyguards… Just how powerful or clever was this unseen enemy she fought?

And what was their purpose for being in HInamizawa? A small town like them kicking up such a fuss? The researchers she could understand, but the need to protect that information, she couldn't quite. Did someone seek the destruction of Hinamizawa? Was that not just a lovely side-effect of her own repeating death?

But that begged the question as well. Who would want Hinamizawa wiped off the map? And for what purpose?

The board had suddenly gotten a whole lot larger.

_Time. I need more time._

But it was the night of the Watanagushi festival. There was no more time.


	8. Chapter 7

Keiichi and Aiko were gone, and the house was empty except for the basement. Ichiro was down there again, painting. Silence settled on his shoulders, in way it hadn't for a while at least. There was no Keiichi clattering about with his crutches, or Aiko with a duster or cutlery.

And there were no ghostly footsteps drawing his gaze either. Keiichi and Aiko were at the festival, far far far away. Maybe it was one of them walking about at night and disturbing his rest after all. Sometimes Aiko seemed to be in bed. Sometimes she didn't. Sometimes she was waiting for him. And whenever he went downstairs, Keiichi would wake up and stare at him. One of them or both of them or none of them – and a third party then or a figment of his own imagination? Too many possibilities and the first ones were the most likely, because who else should footsteps in a house be attributed to except its occupants?

And they were busy with the festival. Gone, and they'd be gone for a while. The house was silent. Peaceful – peaceful but incriminating. Lending weight to the theory that it was one of them –

And how easy it would be to simply ask and put his worries to rest. But something stayed his tongue. _They could lie._ They could. They could also be sleepwalking, or something. Or have forgotten about it, half-asleep. Keiichi hadn't once asked why he got up almost every night and he saw him from the couch. Not for the last couple of nights though. Back into the bedroom. On a different sort of cast: the sort that let him put enough weight on his bad leg to get him up and down the stairs.

But he still got the feeling watched, all the way to the kitchen and back.

Though not now. Not now when he was the only one in the house and knew he would be for quite some time, when he couldn't mistake the footsteps for someone else because no native of Hinamizawa would miss the Watanagushi festival and there were far too few outsiders like him. The doctor and the nurse were two but the nurse was interested in that sort of thing. How many times had Aiko chatted about her? Often enough to make him wish he'd found a connection in this town like that, or like Keiichi and his friends.

But there were only his paintings, rapidly gaining life under his fingertips, sequestered away in the basement and waiting, just waiting, for those footsteps to start up again.

.

Rika danced on the stage. As with the more recent incarnations, her mind drifted elsewhere, out to the crowd. There was Satoko, and Rena and Mion and Keiichi. And Mion's parents a little way behind. And Keiichi's mother almost hovering over her son. _Why do that?_

But she had seen more than enough of the curse to be able to guess. It didn't affect just one person, after all. The effects rippled upward and outward: family, friends, people as a whole. Just look at poor Satoko, after all.

Not even Satoko knew the truth of that. Not Mion nor Shion either, though Rika had asked specifically for that boon, knowing how close they could become. Few people did know the entire tale. Sonozaki Oryou. Her daughter and son in law - for they were the ones who arranged the cover-ups. Always them who did the cover-ups, so always them who knew the truth. And yet Rika always did know more than them and it wasn't because of any precognitive power she claimed to possess.

She had no precognitive power. It was simply the experience of multiple timelines that shaped her, rippling forward - and rippling back as well. Asakawa Mamoru was a prime example of that. How she remembered him slightly differently in each timeline. How, in those timelines where her warnings were not heeded and she knew she was wasting her time with the second round, would tell him of all the deaths that would follow in the hopes that, by hers at least, he would step in to play on her team and help.

He appeared in Hinamizawa sometimes. Usually too late to do anything. He hadn't in this world though. Not on the Watanagushi festival and so he wouldn't appear after that. Unless he showed up after her death. In a world that didn't exist for her anymore - because how could she see the future of a world she no longer existed in. _But it's not like I abandon them…_ Rather, the worlds abandon her. Fail to provide her with the answers to win this game, to survive past the June of Showa 58.

She continued to move. An unsatisfying dance after the first: too slow and cumbersome and carrying that heavy hoe throughout it all. Dancing towards the end: the end of the Watanagushi festival, the end of this year's curse, the end of her own life and the end of this incarnation of the world…

Hanyu bore witness, as she was fated to do. And Rika danced, in that seemingly never-ending battle with her own destiny.

_I thought I'd won._

Maybe, just maybe, she still had.

Or maybe Hanyu was right.

At least she had a new piece of information for the next world. Two new pieces of information. That it didn't have to be one of her friends directly in which the parasite reared its ugly head, and that the Yamainu existed - and that their capacity was to save Takano and Rika herself...or not.

Their enemy was, after all, human and not a God.

.

Takano was smiling as she left the festival. Tomitake watched her closely. Wondering no doubt why she was in such a preppy mood with the threat of death hanging over her. But he wasn't very worried himself. The both of them were taking their prophylactic shots after all - or so he thought.

 _I'm sorry Jiro,_ she hummed to herself. _I really do like you, you know?_

Tomitake continued to stare, seeing but not seeing the truth. She'd planned it all too carefully. They walked until they reached his bike and her car. Walked until there was nobody else in sight.

She smiled more widely. 'Jiro…'

He turned to face her fully.

She wondered what he was thinking, in that mind of his. Not as clever as Irie Kyousuke but Irie Kyousuke was so irritating sometimes, with his morals. Halting progress for the chance to alleviate somebody's suffering. Not what the world wanted. Not what she wanted. Who cared if Hinamizawa Syndrome could unearth its own cure after all these years? It would always be the swamp of the demons, the cursed place where God had and would again come down to touch the earth.

Did he wish to be the healing patron God? Those were the Gods that were forgotten. The cursed ones were the ones that were revered: the ones that brought destruction, that showed power. Healing had no power except to increase the masses, increase the variables, increase the chaos. But then again, Irie Kyousuke was so terribly human.

'Jiro... ' she repeated, her voice low but not pleading. Not pleading. She liked him, yes, but she could do without him. According to the little priestess, she would do without him. And she would win as well. Silly princess, delivering the prophecy of her own death to her future murderer. Not too much in the future. The time had only come. But first…

Okonogi appeared from the shadows. Jiro turned. _Sharp, Jiro._ But it didn't matter. Okonogi was faster. Better positioned. Better served. And more informed as well. Poor Jiro was in the same category as Doctor Irie, thinking they worked towards a cure, thinking they worked towards the better of the world.

Sometimes, she wondered why she liked one so and hated the other.

Not that it really mattered, when she was so close to ascending the throne.

Tomitake Jiro fell, a light thump against his bike before Okonogi hailed two men to bind him tight and carry him into her boot and lock him there. She hefted her bike into the back seat herself. Started the ignition, and waved the others off. They went to the clinic. Ready for the next part of their plan.

Okonogi remained. 'Did you want a ride?' asked Takano, amused.

'Some indulgence,' said the other man with a smile that would have chilled any less hardened woman than her. 'Why not take the girl?'

'Before the biggest event of the festival?' she laughed. 'Now that would have been a problem, don't you think? The entire village combing the land for their precious princess?'

'And that's all?' His voice held no surprise. Rationale was one thing. Reasons, sometimes, were another.

Takano shrugged. 'She was amusing,' she said. 'And it's a common thing between adults and children: to give hope only to snatch it away again. Perhaps it's a little payback towards God. At least until I supplant him.'

'Amusing,' the man repeated, before his lips curled into a more curved smile. 'I'll head to the mountains then.'

'You do that,' she agreed. 'And the next time I'll see you, I'll be dead. Isn't that an amusing thought as well?

.

The dance ended. The people spread out and set off home. Keiichi and Aiko walked slowly and Rena with them.

When they came closer to the Maebara house, they saw it dark. 'Ichiro must be asleep,' said Aiko, but it didn't sound as though she believed it.

'He missed the festival.' Rena's lips were in a pout, but her eyes were dark as she stared at the house, quiet and unwaiting. 'Rena should have remembered to get extras.'

'We got a few.' Keiichi grinned at her. 'Would've been better if we could convince him to go, but -'

'But your father was inspired,' Aiko interrupted, causing both teenagers to glance at her in some surprise. 'You know how he gets when he's like that.'

'Yeah…' Keiichi frowned a little. 'It was a shame though. I'm sure the Watanagushi festival would've inspired him more. And Rika in that cute shrine maiden outfit? Priceless.'

Rena laughed, relaxing. 'Rena wanted to take her home, but Mion kept her too far away.'

'Probably with good reason.'

Aiko watched the pair, poking at each other and smiling and laughing and the crutches were just an accidental prop they had to bear with. The dark circles under his eyes were another matter though. And even if he didn't remember, waking up in the middle of dreams and sinking back into them, she did. Knew when her husband got out of bed and paced restlessly, downstairs and up and then came back to bed again. Knew when her husband stared at her to make sure she was there, in bed with him - or sometimes as though she wasn't there at all. And how tense he'd gotten, sometimes. Flinching when she moved around, when Keiichi moved around. He'd noticed. She was sure he'd noticed. But he must have put it down to something reasonable in his mind as well.

Maybe she'd find out what without having to ask.

''tou-san seems stressed recently. Maybe he misses the city.'

'Keiichi's 'tou-san must paint beautiful paintings.'

'That's relative.' Keiichi laughed. 'Depends on his mood. When he's angry, watch out. But when he's happy, they're the most beautiful things you've ever seen.'

'Breathtaking no matter what the mood,' Aiko agreed, 'but breathtaking in different ways. Painfully honest as well.'

'Yeah.' Keiichi agreed. 'You saw the one he was walking on.'

'Yes,' Rena said. 'The footsteps in the shadows. The manifestation of Oyashiro's curse.'

'My fault,' said Aiko. 'Takano-san has been telling me about the legends of Hinamizawa. It was so fascinating that I couldn't help but babble about it all to him, and I've managed to influence his -'

'Footsteps,' Rena repeated. 'And voices repeating the same thing over and over. And the need to return, the need to remain here, trapped, forever. And the things crawling under skin. The need to escape. Not escape -'

'Rena?' Keiichi asked. His eyes were a little wide and he'd stopped walking. So had Aiko. Only Rena continued, a few steps in front until Keiichi's voice called her back. 'Are you okay?'

She smiled at him, looking painfully normal again. 'Of course, Keiichi,' she said. 'But footsteps in the shadows are a frightening thing, you know?'

'I haven't taken a good look at the painting,' Keiichi mumbled, sounding uncomfortable. 'I'm sorry Rena, if it -'

She waved a hand. 'I'm fine,' she said. 'I came back. Keiichi's 'tou-san came back as well, so he should be okay too. As long as he comes back. As long as he stays. As long as he doesn't think of abandoning this place.'

'What do you mean?' whispered Aiko.

'Did Takano-san not say?' Rena's voice had gone dark and serious again. 'The curse makes sure no-one in Hinamizawa ever leaves.'

.

Ichiro wasn't asleep. He was still painting, in the basement. Aiko sent Keiichi upstairs, and then tried to do the same to him. He simply mumbled at her to go away.

'Come up,' she pleaded. 'Come to bed.'

Her words echoed in his ears, again and again and again until he covered them with both hands.

And then she had no choice but to leave him there with the weak swinging light as his only company. Because she was frightened. Frightened of Ichiro who hadn't listened. Frightened of Rena who he'd listened to.

And frightened of all that black and brown and red on the canvas, and the smell of paint that dove through her nostrils and into her skull.

.

Rika woke up in the morning, and the first thing she did was ring the clinic. Pretended she wasn't feeling well but it wasn't too serious and they didn't need to disturb the good doctor but if she could just talk to Nurse Takano -

And was told that Nurse Takano had not signed in that morning.

It would take at least till that afternoon, she knew, before their deaths would be confirmed: Tomitake's and Takano's. But that was her confirmation until then.

And then at school, the police came. Ooishi, never Akasaka. Pulled out Mion, then Rika. Didn't bother with the others, thankfully. In some worlds he did. It usually meant he'd been an unwitting player in the curse.

Not this world. Not that it really mattered if Tomitake and Takano were still dead. The man tried. He simply didn't have the resources to solve the riddle. Not in her lifetime anyway. Maybe not even in his.

Tomitake and Takano were definitely dead. This confirmed it, and the meeting of the three great families that followed was just a formality.

And no-one claimed responsibility. Though they did say the look on the ritual tool shrine had been broken during the festival. When she was on stage, presumably. Just before in reality. It didn't matter to her if their names were dragged through the mud at this point. Her warnings had been for naught. The new extra players in the Yamainu had been for naught as well. _Just what is the enemy?_

Her death was fast approaching. And not only hers. The parasite flowering inside Maebara Ichiro's mind would soon reach full bloom as well.

But she had little more time to spare for her friend.

Or, rather, she had all the time left in this world to spare, because nothing ever happened in that day or two or three or five that followed the Watanagushi festival, except the wait for her now inevitable demise.


	9. Chapter 8

Rika watched Keiichi in school the next day. There seemed no difference, except the darkening circles under his eyes and she wondered if those had been there before. It wasn't unusual. Any world in which the parasite in his mind had awoken was the same. But this wasn't one of those worlds, even if it could have been. It could have been Shion as well, she supposed, but Shion didn't come to Hinamizawa at all in this incarnation.

'Will you stay?' asked Hanyu. 'Will you try again?'

 _Yes to both,_ Rika thought in reply. _It's my duty, which this power I have._

Her duty to forgive those who sinned through no fault of their own. Her duty to forgive the distrust that spread - the distrust she did sometimes nothing to quell. Her duty to try and protect the ones doomed to die, even if she failed again and again. And to live past the June of Showa 58 was the reward.

Perhaps that was why. She'd failed Keiichi in this world, despite saving him. Hurt him in body and he was slowly hurting in mind and with no idea why. Perhaps it hurt more, to have his father slipping away. It had certainly hurt Satoko - but that was just a hypothesis on their parts, that Satoshi hadn't really run away.

More likely, though. Satoshi would never have left his little sister in that place if he could have helped it. More likely, far more likely, that he'd succumbed to the curse. But there was nothing she could ever do about Satoshi. She couldn't go back far enough. And it wasn't like Akasaka, where one meeting's outcome determined the next and the result of that first outcome was chance, always chance.

She was a priestess, but the knowledge she had now wasn't due to predictions but living those times again and again and again. Akasawa was a prediction. Perhaps. She wasn't too sure herself. Her voice had sounded too old back then. Old like it sounded now, if she cut off the cute ten year old persona she had to wear in front of everyone. Hanyu had her own theories. She had her own theories. She couldn't remain ten years old forever, repeating Showa 58 again and again and again… And she couldn't take all of that into her human body. It was too frail. Too limited. To cross timelines as she did with Hanyu's power meant to transcend the limits of humanity. To become a God was impossible though. Something else, then. A witch? And that was the part of her that observed and did nothing. The part that observed every board, every incarnation, and attempted to find the common points and the divergences and where she as the avatar could interfere and where she could not and what actions she would have to do and when to achieve the result she sought.

Had it not been enough worlds to get the full lay of the board? Or did she simply make too many mistakes to salvage even one?

Or was it that the possibility did not exist and they aimlessly searched.

.

Keiichi was at school. Ichiro was down in the basement again, and Aiko had left him breakfast by the door instead of calling him up to eat it.

And she whittled the morning away cleaning. Dust everywhere, it seemed. And it was newly built as well. Built just for them on the empty lot they'd brought. It had been a stroke of luck, that it had gone up for sale just when they were thinking of moving out of the city, into the Which reminded one. Ichiro had one scheduled for the next weekend.

 _Didn't you know?_ Rena's voice whispered in her head. _No-one ever leaves Hinamizawa. Never._

No, they hadn't known. They hadn't been searching for a prison with a different name. They'd been searching for somewhere happy, somewhere free, somewhere without expectations to bind them and where the wildflower that was his son could grow into who he wanted to be.

And maybe that was all it was: a free, spirited place that just had a bunch of old folklores that everyone believed. But that wasn't true, wasn't it? Two people's bodies discovered in one night. The photographer from Tokyo - Tomitake Jiro - and Nurse Takano from the Irie Clinic. Two countryside where there was more fresh air and the expectations were far less.

The countryside had done wonders for Keiichi, and they'd never thought they'd have a problem adjusting. Their jobs could go anywhere, aside from the rare book signings and exhibitions.

murders in such a small town. A town that should have been safe from the things the city had splattered on their newspapers every day.

And they weren't even calm, but messy and inexplicable. Or not so inexplicable. Hadn't Nurse Takano told her? The curse of Oyashiro that clung to this town. One person dead on the day of the Watanagushi festival, and another person missing: a person spirited away by the demon. On the first year, two workers on the dam project. The following year, two supporters. Keiichi's friend Satoko's parents, or so Takano had said. And then the year that followed was the priest of the Furude Shrine and his wife. Rika's parents. And the year that followed that was Satoko's guardian aunt and her brother.

And now Tomitake and Takano - except there were two dead and none missing.

Why hadn't she put more stock on those stories before the proof had been shoved at her? Why?

Why had they, of all the quaint little country towns around, had they chosen the demon-infested one? Why why _why_ -

Footsteps behind her. She jumped and shrieked. Ichiro was standing there, with the tray she'd left for him hours earlier. 'You didn't knock.'

'I - ' Her heart was still thudding in her chest, and how foolish it was. Who else would it be?

_Footsteps. Footsteps in the shadows._

Wow, she'd really let Ryuugu Rena scare her, hadn't she?

'I knocked,' she managed, after a bit. 'You didn't reply, so I thought -'

He seemed to accept that - but there was a barrier between them and where had that barrier come from?

.

Aiko said she'd knocked. He hadn't heard that. Just footsteps approaching, then fading again. Had that been here then? How, then, had he missed the knock that should have been sharp and loud in the near silent basement?

When hunger had gnawed at him, too irritating to ignore, and he'd gotten up to fetch something from the kitchen, he'd seen the tray lying innocently there on the basement steps. And then he wondered why Aiko hadn't called him up, or at least knocked and said she'd leave the tray for him for when hunger called. Because the food was cold. Stone cold miso soup and stiff bread and a rubber egg and coffee with clumps of milk at the bottom.

He'd eaten it all because he'd been hungry, but they churned in his stomach afterwards. Churned when he clambered back up the stairs, when Aiko jumped at the sound of his footsteps, when she stuttered and took far too long to answer his questions. _Why Aiko? I haven't changed._ It was just the footsteps that haunted his sleep. And the story of curses that haunted the sketches that covered his basement studio and the painting he was now slowly crafting into life. And maybe a bit of trouble adjusting - and who knew, maybe the footsteps were a mix of that and old folklores doing their job of scaring new residents. Nothing sounded far louder in the silence, after all.

And the only way to make those haunting sounds go away was to be occupied elsewhere. In the painting slowly taking form under his brush. In the fumes that seared his nostrils but also, sometimes, didn't burn. In the shadows that stretched out from his canvas and reached for him, tried to pull him into the maelstrom that was his thoughts, his feelings, his soul -

But no, not this time. This was a depiction of Hinamizawa, not him. Or, perhaps, it would be more accurate to say it was a depiction of Onigafuchi - the swamp village of before that had been so demon-infested, or so they told. Stories made to scare, to fascinate. Stories with a grain of truth twisted so viciously now that who knew how much of that truth still remained. Concepts that created a mixing pot of theories and tales with people like Nurse Takano trying to come up with a single piece of string to connect them all.

And this was his contribution. Nothing more and nothing less than that.

.

It sucked up all his attention. Ichiro barely remembered to eat, and when he did, he'd wonder allowed why no-one had called him up, why no-one had come to bother him (and he used the word and made Keiichi look at him oddly and Aiko cringe), why he didn't need to walk Keiichi to school along with Rena ('because my leg's feeling much better, 'tou-san), why he'd stopped coming up bed ('because I need to finish just this little bit more'/ _because the footsteps are still there_.)

Keiichi wanted to go down and drag him up, bug him with the ball or the baseball bat or _something_ but Aiko sent him off with his friends instead. Drew the line at their plan to climb the mountains one day because no way Keiichi would be able to manage that still on crutches and knee still casted up, but said nothing else. Kept him out of the house so it was only Aiko and Ichiro, because Aiko was insensibly afraid of something, as though there was a bomb in the house that would soon explode, and Keiichi really didn't need to be there to see that. No kid really needed to see their parents fighting. Didn't matter how old they were, or how disillusioned.

Especially when Keiichi was just getting those illusions back under his belt.

She didn't know why she was expecting a fight. She just was. The wall was too thick. There was a hammer swinging somewhere, that would knock it down. Where had it come from? Why? Please don't say it was because they moved here, because they had to move, because Keiichi -

_That's just - that's just not fair._

Keiichi was so happy. Why couldn't it have stayed that idyllic paradise the pair of them had dreamed it would be for him.

.

She knocked on the basement door again. Again, nothing. _Knock. No reply. Leave_. She hadn't knocked again since she'd heard crashes one day and then she'd fled up the stairs like a startled rabbit. _Silly me,_ she'd scolded herself afterwards. Silly her for being afraid of her romantic, non-violent husband. The only time he lost his temper was when he was scared, deeply scared. Like when Keiichi had admitted to his night misadventures.

And like when, before they'd married, when those rumours about a measly two-hundred yen book author dating a bum artist had gotten around - and they'd been unfounded. She had a degree in japanese folklore (though Hinamizawa was not one they'd ever studied) and her books weren't worldwide sellers by any means, but certainly decent enough to cover what she'd lacked from her day job at a local cafe back then. And he sold enough paintings and was commissioned for enough covers and artworks to manage with the house his parents had already paid off. Sure, their circumstances had been good. Wouldn't have worked so well if they'd had to pay rent or mortgage or they'd had a child before they'd married and moved in together and put a bit aside.

Wouldn't have been able to afford such a large piece of land in even a backwater place like Hinamizawa if the land-prices hadn't skyrocketed since their parents' times, either. But maybe they'd have been able to find another solution of that had been the case. A place where they wouldn't have to unroot themselves - and it had been such a good thing, they'd thought. Such a good thing, to get a fresh start somewhere far away except now it was suffocating, frightening, and was this how people disappeared? Scared, running away, never to return.

_No-one ever leaves Hinamizawa._

She shivered, even if there was no wind to chill her. 'I'm sorry.' The words fell from her lips without meaning, without demand.

Ichiro opened the door.

.

He heard them. Footsteps, again. And rustling. Someone moving about outside. And a whisper, though he couldn't make out the words.

He waited. They went away. He opened the door for his own piece of mind and nothing more.

Aiko stood there, pale and eyes wide and startled. 'I'm sorry,' she blurted, and the words echoed in his ears. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry._

Had Aiko been the one standing behind the door? Didn't he know how that made his heart hammer inside his chest.

 _Of course not,_ some reasonable part of his mind pointed out. _How can she, unless you tell her?_

But he couldn't tell her, because that was the truth he could or could not face.

And then there was the other possibility. That she was drifting away. Found something in this town just as Keiichi had - or found something more, and he was left behind. And she was apologising too. Apologising so the words burned into his mind and _whywhywhy_ -

'What?' he snapped, his voice cutting through the echo like the blade he'd intended it to be.

'L-lunch,' she stuttered in reply and why did she stutter. She hardly stuttered. The confident woman who could write up a storm and sell it to make a comfortable amount. Who'd birthed a boy who had such a way with words and those sorts of people just didn't stutter like that, just didn't lose the words, the sentences, the elegant forms…

_Of course they can. They're human too._

But some rational bit of his mind had already slipped away, without his notice.

'Why were you just standing here?' he wondered. He meant to wonder. But Aiko flinched and maybe his tone was too harsh _or maybe she's hiding something. That's it, isn't it? She's hiding something and I just don't want to admit she is._

'Lunch,' she repeated, a little more steadily. _and when had she backed away? See? She's hiding something and she's afraid of your reaction to whatever it is she's hiding._ 'It's ready. Come up and eat.'

 _First time in three days,_ the voice in his head continued.

_She says she's knocked every time._

_But you don't hear here, do you?_

'Ichiro?' She inched closer. Reached out for his chin.

He saw the hidden sneer in her face, the cold in her eyes, and reeled back.

She jerked back too, red blossoming on a cheek but a hand covered it.

_I - hit her?_

Someone laughed. _Aiko?_

_She thought you were blind. Thought she had you fooled._

'Don't you love me anymore?' The question fell from his lips like he was a pathetic child and she the mother with her bags all packed and leaving. _And she'll pack them. She'll pack them one day. You know that. You just don't know when it started._

'I - ' She fumbled, backed away. 'I - of course I love you. It's just -'

_See, she stutters._

Finally, she abandoned the track. 'Come,' and she forced it steady, forced it form. 'Let's eat lunch.'

Neither side of his brain would allow that. He shut himself in the basement again.


	10. Chapter 9

Keiichi came home and saw the redness of her cheek.

She should have foreseen that, really. Keiichi was pretty good at seeing things around him (but not so good at the introspection, though who could blame him? Looking inside oneself was rarely fun). And red against the pallor of her skin was hard to miss.

Her brain simply wasn’t functioning. Numb with shock or something. But not so numb _because hadn’t you seen this coming? Wasn’t that why you’d already been backing up the stairs?_

Who’d been the one who’d started, she wondered. Her or Ichiro.

‘’kaa-san?’ Keiichi repeated. He touched the warm cheek gently. His fingers felt cool and there was another thing she’d forgotten. Putting some ice on it. Or a cool towel. And then maybe some makeup so Keiichi wouldn’t have noticed so easily unless she perspired and the makeup ran or Keiichi tried to kiss that cheek or Ichiro did – but maybe she didn’t need to worry about Ichiro. Or maybe she did.

He’d gone back into his little dungeon basement after the little incident. Fled back in, she might’ve thought, if she hadn’t been busy fleeing herself. And wondering, over-thinking – How could she have startled him so badly? _Her_? Or was she just so intolerably disgusting and he could hardly bear to look at her anymore.

                ‘Must’ve got a bug bite,’ Aiko mused to her son. He was still there, waiting for an explanation and she couldn’t give it to him, truth or no. An outright lie she could do but that was all. At least she didn’t have to worry about being called out on that lie. The Ichiro she knew would stew in guilt and apologise, but in a way so nobody else had to know. Did the same with Keiichi as well. The city baying for blood never knew who the person who’d haunted the streets were. Just knew they were a minor and there wasn’t a hint of anything that would give them away. People moved all the time, after all. In and out. The city changed so drastically, compared to this little country side that shouldn’t have changed at all.

Shouldn’t have changed at all but losing two people every year. But this time they were both dead. Did that mean two people would be spirited away by the demon as well? Or was that Nurse Takano and they’d just happened to find her body this time, carefully hidden but not carefully enough. Questions and theories that had been fascinating to think about and plot outside the realm of reality but now it was all real and not all real mysteries were solved. The most interesting ones were, but that was just because the interesting ones were the ones that had solutions, the ones that were written up and published, the ones that people tried to puzzle out and if they gave up, could simply get to the end of the book and discover the outcome of.

But not all mysteries in reality had a solution, did they? And did magic and the curse of Oyashiro even exist? Did Gods exist? That changed the entire ball game – or maybe it changed nothing. If no-one was spirited away by the demon this time, that pointed to a human being the culprit. An imperfect human who could make mistakes and had made one in having Nurse Takano’s body discoverable –

And that clawing inside of her was grief. Grief and worry. Just that.

                ‘Does it hurt?’

Keiichi was asking about the bruise, of course, but her mind was elsewhere. ‘Yeah, it hurts.’ And then, after a pause. ‘Going to play with your friends?’

                ‘They’re busy,’ Keiichi replied, somewhat absentmindedly. ‘And the fridge is almost empty.’

She’d forgotten. Grocery shopping. ‘Come help me, then. We’ll go now.’

                ‘What about ‘tou-san?’

Ichiro was still in the basement. Always in the basement, these days.

.

Rika wandered, like the lost and drifting soul she was. She stayed near the temple where she’d grown up at first, but then she drifted down. The elders were in their homes, in their rooms, thinking. Mion was thinking as well, and maybe wandering too. Rika had her own job. The shrine had been broken into and so she had to pray to the Gods.

But Hanyu floated behind her and so she didn’t bother. Instead, she drifted in the last few days of this life, this world. Decided she could splurge herself on spicy food and wine because she didn’t need to keep her head on straight (or Hanyu’s) when all that was left to do was wait for the end to come.

No amount of traps stopped them. She’d tried. In the first few worlds (not the original where she’d been oh so oblivious, after all), she’d tried. They’d tried. She’d been so frantic and they’d taken every measure a bunch of kids could take but it still wasn’t enough. They needed knowledge on their side as well and even now, knowledge favoured the enemy more than her.

It wasn’t fair. But until she solved the riddle, gained the knowledge, she was doomed to wait for the checkmate when her moves ran out. Like now. Now she just wandered: up on the hill, then down to the town. Waved to Rena passing by with groceries. Waved to Keiichi and Keiichi’s mother doing the same –

And then she froze. There was proof of her failure, blossoming on Maebara Aiko’s face.

.

His mother was acting rather jumpy. And his father was still wrapped up in his work in the basement. For some reason, it reminded him of when he’d confessed his sins. Those days after, as though his mother knew he’d explode without his outlet, and even if he didn’t, the world could so easily explode around him: turn into a bomb of ridicule and hatred. Turn into something worse, from the parents of all those kids he’d scared, and hurt.

It was probably Nurse Takano’s death. It had shaken her and why wouldn’t it? Nurse Takano had been steadily becoming a good friend of hers. But then what about his father? Wrapped up in that painting of his. He did that sometimes. But he should have been done with the painting if that was the case. He tended to work quite fast when inspired.

And the red cheek – somehow, he knew she was lying about that. But tomorrow would tell, whether it was a bite that had swelled or something else. A bruise would darken over time: go black in a way insect bites wouldn’t. Unless they were poisoned, perhaps, but different. Still different. All the excuses people made to hide punches and slaps and being grabbed. All the simple ways they could unravel.

But that begged its own question. Who had hit her? She hadn’t gone out since the Watanagushi festival and it hadn’t been there then. He was sure it hadn’t. He would have noticed, and it had been almost a week since.

Which meant she’d gotten it at home. And that meant…

                ‘Have we had any visitors this week, ‘kaa-san?’

                ‘No,’ Aiko replied distractedly, and not needing to think very hard on her reply.

Then the only two people left were him and his father. And neither of them were conceivable.

But it was so much easier to accuse someone else than himself. Or some _thing_ – He brightened at that. Could’ve easily been a door knob or the corner of a cabinet – but then why lie about it?

_Silly. You know that’s just as common a lie. And why cover the truth with an even less believable lie?_

Which came back to the same conclusion again?

_Why? Weren’t we supposed to be happy and free from expectations here?_

He shivered. The streets of Hinamizawa seemed colder, suddenly. Shivered and scratched. Red blossomed from his fingertips. Stretched across his skin. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions. Maybe whatever had bitten his mother had bitten him as well, and that was why he itched. Maybe –

                ‘Keiichi.’ And Rika was suddenly there, holding one hand.

The itching eased. ‘Rika?’ He blinked in surprise.

.

‘I thought you were all busy?’

                ‘I was.’ Rika smiled. ‘I prayed to the Shrine Gods. But now I’m free. And Keiichi and Keiichi’s ‘kaa-san are shopping?’

                ‘That’s right.’ Aiko smiled at the girl, ten and adorable, even in her shrine maiden outfit at the festival. ‘Would you like to join us?’

She smiled and hummed a little, as though considering it. ‘Is your cheek okay, Maebara-san?’

Her eyes dimmed a little and she brought a hand to it before she replied. ‘Y-yes, it’s fine. Just got bit by an insect, I think. A bit warm and itches a bit, but –‘

Keiichi seemed to both tense and relax at that. Believe it and not believe it.

Rika was in the same conundrum, but for different reasons. The heat and warmth… Those came from Hinamizawa Syndrome. She had no doubt about the source pf that forming bruise. Aiko’s recollection she could doubt, though. Or, if not that, then the source of her lie. And Keiichi too. Scratching at skin when he’d seen him.

 _You were too late,_ Hanyu’s words from before echoed. And she could see it. See it all too clearly now.

She’d left them both to that fate.

.

Satoko was the first person she knew to reach level five of the Hinamizawa Syndrome. Satoko was the reason she knew about it at all. And the reason the vaccine had been developed. Doctor Irie had felt for her. Tried to cure her. Succeeded in forcing it back into stage three, into a sort of remission. Succeeded in staving it off.

And then there was Satoshi. They suspected it. Rika and Doctor Irie and Nurse Takano. With the stress of his home life, it was pretty much inevitable. He’d hidden it well though. Too well. Only Rena had known enough and Rena had confused it with her own experiences, her own too true but not well explained experiences.

If only Rena had known back then that it wasn’t Oyashiro who’d cursed her but the parasite in her mind. If only Rena had known, then she could have told Satoshi and Satoshi could have told. Or if only Rika had been close enough, in any world. She hadn’t. She’d saved Akasaka Mamoru’s wife on occasion but not Satoshi. Never Satoshi.

Poor Satoko. The parasite had ripped her apart in too many ways. Whether Satoshi, mad with the parasite, had escaped, died or been killed, he was gone. It didn’t matter. Gone too far too far to come back. Satoko was still there, at least. Still living. Still trudging through – but she’d die with the rest of Hinamizawa in every world she failed. Like this one. There was on saving her too. Just like there was no saving Mion, or Rena. Keiichi, sometimes. Shion, sometimes. If they’re lucky enough to never come to Hinamizawa but even Shion’s fate was sealed. Without a queen carrier, the parasite would eventually consume her. Only the Keiichi who never left the city was safe – but who knew what would happen to that boy, clawing at proverbial cardboard walls?

Better than what was coming, she surmised. It could end so many ways. Violence gone too far. The madness that led so many to claw out their own throat. Or would it be the mass effect that swept them away, whatever happened after she departed from the world?  

.

Afterwards, she watched the Maebara house, too far away to help but watching all the same. Not that she’d see much, if disaster struck inside. Close enough to bear witness, like she’d born witness to scores of other sins, other atrocities. One day they’d become innumerable…or they might not, but hope slipped further each time the cycle began again, each time she was killed and reborn. How long before she cut off the hopeless worlds with her own hands. How long before she stopped waking up in new worlds, just let herself die at ten years old. How long before the ultimate failure that no-one except Hanyu would have the right to begrudge her of, because only Hanyu would know…

And Hanyu wouldn’t begrudge her at all. _Do you want to give up?_

The answer was still no…but for how much longer would it remain that no?

How many more cycles of this could she take?

How many more –

Her thoughts seized, then tumbled to a stop. Her body jerked as well, from the blow to her head, before she fell.

She was too far from the Maebara house to be seen by them. But even if she’d been closer, it was doubtful they’d have noticed, lost in their own haze as they were.

.

They bundled her up, almost gently. Gagged her and tied her wrists and ankles and injected her with a sedative strong enough to keep her out cold and numb for hours.

And they took her to the shrine. Silly symbolism, in Okonogi’s view, but he was simply the hired help. He did as he was commanded. And he had to admit, the ritual sacrifice would make _quite_ an impression. And Takano was a scientist about all else. She missed the politics, the power-play that went on in Tokyo. But if nuking the quaint little country town was going to get them all what they wanted, then who really cared what misunderstandings went on?

And now they were at the final stage. Kill the little shrine maiden with the queen bee in her brain, and then the town would be nuked and the God that caused the madness immortalised in history without a name. Tokyo would have washed its hands of the Hinamizawa Syndrome. And he could find a new opponent, since the excitement would be all gone.

It was a pity that this tale was ending so soon though. But oh well.

He nodded to Takano as she came, and then left. He was no longer needed. They were no longer needed and he didn’t plan to die with Hinamizawa when it went down. It might be a few hours. It might be a day. But Furude Rika would soon be dead in a couple of hours after she slowly and sluggishly bled out, and the rest of Hinamizawa would follow, choked on gas.


	11. Chapter 10

 

There were more ramen cups than she was happy with, and less actual groceries, but things really couldn’t be helped. She didn’t feel comfortable in leaving Keiichi alone in Hinamizawa, but she didn’t feel comfortable in taking him away either. He was carefree, happy, finding his place…and –

_No-one ever leaves Hinamizawa. Ever._

She shivered as she put away the rest of the groceries. That would be for when they returned. If they returned. _Aren’t I going too fast?_ The rational part of her mind knew she was, but there was something else gripping her heart that wouldn’t let go. Some fear that if she left town, or Ichiro did, then they’d never see Keiichi again – but she couldn’t, not at all, drag him along. Not now. Not like this.

But Ichiro had to go. His work demanded it and could they afford to cut themselves off entirely from the outside world? Not yet. Not before they made arrangements for such things. Not if they couldn’t manage it. Art lived in the city, ultimately. Inspiration came from quaint country towns with bloody folklore and demons that seemed to hover all too close, but they weren’t alive until there were hundreds of people watching and looking and reading, hundreds of people adding their own interpretations of the tale.

And Hinamizawa was a good expression of that. Folklore impeding into modern times but few people outside Hinamizawa, if anyone, knew about it. It wasn’t the sort of folklore that buried itself into a university course. It wasn’t the sort of folklore anyone could look up if they looked up demon tales on a library catalogue. It wasn’t the sort of folklore she’d imagined was at the root of this town – and couldn’t they have found a town that wasn’t steeped in blood like this one? That was the downside of being so far cut off from the world. They’d walked right into demon infested waters and now they had to live there, survive there, _stay there…_

But it wasn’t feasible to stay. Not right then. Not when if they both stopped the extra things that came with their jobs, they’d run out of funds too quick. But they’d have to talk. Sort things out.

And that wasn’t the only thing they had to talk about and sort out. Her cheek itched. She scratched at it, and it hurt but she scratched at it anyway and it came away with blood.

Keiichi’s finger curled around her wrist. ‘It’s not good to scratch infections,’ he scolded. They spread.

She supressed the snort. It was their job to protect him, not the other way around.

She had to get her act together. And so did Ichirou.

.

The food was sorted out. Rika had volunteered her house for dinner on Saturday as well (which meant Satoko was cooking, Keiichi informed her) so that was all fine. And Keicihi knew to lock up, be careful of who he let in (though with a small town like Hinamizawa, they knew everyone by then and then some).

Keiichi settled onto the dining table and worked on his homework. She moved on to the packing. Her stuff first because then she could put off asking Ichiro what he’d prefer, put off seeing him – and what kind of woman was she, to want to avoid her husband? _What sort of husband was he to hit her for no reason at all?_ Unless there was a reason, and then what was it? Was the problem in him or her or this place or just the world always eager to rip someone apart?

She packed slowly, carefully. Fought to keep her hands steady and every unnecessary crease out of her clothes. It was methodological. Boring. Calming. Almost lulling.

Until the footsteps on the stairs almost scared the life out of her. ‘Honey?’ Nobody. No reply. ‘Keiichi?’ No reply to that as well.

She swallowed and peeked out the door. Nobody. Nobody on the stairs or the upper landing at all.

.

Something was stirring. Something inside of him that made him want to move. Maybe it was the finished painting before him that had swallowed him like kindling for a flame and was now dying down. And there was something somewhere else. Evidence. Like he knew the truth and all that was left was the undeniable truths.

His mind hummed. His body vibrated. He stood, stumbled a little, and started for the door.

The light from the first floor burned his eyes, but he continued anyway. It wasn’t strong enough to make him blind. Just strong enough to let him see. See the figure on the dining table, not even looking up when he passed and he wasn’t quiet, not at all. Never quiet, never unnoticeable and yet the figure didn’t turn his way at all.

He left him there. That wasn’t what was calling him. Something else. Higher up, like a Siren’s song bursting out of the waves. Up the stairs, and his footsteps were so loud, so echoing, that he couldn’t help but wonder if somebody else wasn’t following him, matching every step.

He didn’t check. There’d been too many cases of him looking and finding no-one there for him to check. He continued up instead.

.

Footsteps again. Footsteps when she’d been carefully folding her suit and a few dress shirts and pants. Footsteps now when she’s up to the undergarments and she hopes it’s not Keiichi because he’s at the age where it could be pretty embarrassing, watching his mother pack her underwear. But it’s not Keiichi. It’s not nobody again this time either, even though she was restraining herself from turning around to check because she’d just spook herself more (and she could go red in piece if it was Keiichi’s amused tone that greeted her).

But it was neither of those things. Instead, it was Ichiro suddenly knocking her suitcase away from her and she started, because she hadn’t seen him coming at all, hadn’t seen him at all –

                ‘What are you doing?’ he hissed.

                ‘Packing,’ she replied, shaking a little. ‘For –‘

                ‘You’re leaving.’ He sunk onto their bed, shaking his head. ‘You’re actually leaving. I didn’t think –‘

Part of her thought there was a misunderstanding there. After all, _they_ were leaving and for the weekend. Another part of her latched on to the implication instead. That he wanted her gone. Or he didn’t want her gone. ‘Don’t you care?’ she whispered. Probably the wrong question. Definitely the wrong question.

They’re hearing two entirely different conversations, and it was impossible to get anything meaningful out of it.

.

Keiichi jumped at the thud from upstairs. His mother had been packing. Had she dropped something? Her suitcase? A lamp?

It took him a while to get up. He still had crutches he threw up as far as they’d go, and then up the rest of the way when he met them. Still had his cast which was heavy and cumbersome but protecting his far too fragile knee. Still had that image of the step sliding away from him and him falling and being oh so lucky he hadn’t landed on his head again but then there are raised voices and he forces himself to forget the other stuff and just continue up.

_‘kaa-san and ‘tou-san are fighting. Why? Whywhywhy…_

He made it up, wobbled as he got his crutches under his armpits again and started off again. He was quicker now, quicker now that he didn’t have to worry about the stairs.

All that speed crashed to a halt in the doorway, and he just stared blankly.

_Why is there blood? Why is there – whywhywhy…_

.

Their questions and accusations tumble over each other. What did she did? What did he do? What were they doing? What were they going to do? They tumbled and it was nonsensical even to her muddled mind and there was something under her skin, something crawling and she dove for her suitcase and stuffed everything in and slammed it shut. But it still itched – her clothes, she realised. The ones she still wore. She tore them off as well and tried to stuff them –

And there was a sound but she didn’t hear it. A sound and them something gripping her wrists and she withered and screamed and the restraint turned into pain and she still had no idea what was going on, just that nothing was making sense anymore. Part of her felt like a schoolgirl who’d been ditched by their childhood crush or first love or something equally heartbreaking but another part of her couldn’t grasp Ichiro holding her wrists, Ichiro’s face changing from concern to hurt to anger as he thought she wanted to be away from, thought she feared him, thought she despised him –

And as for Keiichi standing in the doorway, she didn’t see him at all.

.

_She’s leaving._

_She’s afraid._

_She despises you._

The accusations tumble around in his brain, and the instincts tumble as well. Hold her, keep her here, lavish her with attention and kindness and love until she fell for him all over again. Push her away, cover that sneering face, those hateful eyes black and blue. Or red. Cover it all in red –

Other noises outside. Someone screams. Something cracks. Everything’s painted in colour. Brown and red but maybe they’ll mix black and blue with it as well. Painted in colour. Painted in madness. Painted in curse.

Yes, Oyashiro’s curse, the painting that was drying in the basement though already dry. He should have painted it to look exactly like this scene.

It was a similar blur of colours. But not the same.

.

Two days later, the fumes subsided and the rescue team moved in. They expected no survivors, but they also expected nothing more than two thousand dead because of the gas release.

But there were four deaths that said otherwise.

The first was Furude Rika: shrine maiden of the Furude Shrine. And naked and disembowelled on the top of said shrine, and then part-eaten by the crows. It had made for a gruesome picture, even for world-hardened men like them. But Ooishi had kept a copy of the file and those pictures, because it might’ve held in there the secret he’d long searched for.

Though it might remain forever buried now, unless that Shion girl and her guardians knew something. Sonozaki Shion, the only member of that accursed family still left alive but she’d been so far cut off that it mightn’t have even mattered. He’d seen her, during the Hojou Satoshi incident, seen her with five nails on each hand and then missing three on one and knew the significance of that because he’d made it his personal business three years before to know everything he could about the Sonozaki family.

It was a pity any potential witnesses would have been swept up with the gas that had taken out the rest of Hinamizawa.

And then there was the Maebara family. An entirely different kettle of fish, if it was that. Dead and guttered fish. A bloody mess – though as far as blood went, not as messy as Furude Rika.

But far more clear-cut. And far more tragic. Couldn’t they have waited a day and died peacefully like the rest? Even if peacefully meant choking on their own vomit, meant gagging on their swelling tongues, meant their eyes trying to roll out of their sockets as they fought for air…

But far nicer than domestic violence and suicide.

And not even the clear-cut one person beats the other and the kid got stuck in the middle, either. The old man’s definitely a suicide. Scratched his throat out just like Tomitake Jiro and maybe that meant they were both on the same sort of drugs except the toxicology report for Tomitake came back clean. Wasn’t anything to get out of Maebara Ichiro’s toxicology report. After all, his body had still been in the town when it was gassed. Things like that messed up autopsies and who behind the government decided it was a good idea to gas an entire town anyway?

But before his sympathy for some two thousand people was his loyalty and love for his friends, his family – the old man who’d been almost a father to him and as good as, and he owed it to him, and if Hinamizawa was now buried, he had to dig everything he could out of it while the soil was still fresh.

Both the kid and the woman had died from internal injuries following head strikes. The woman’s head had struck her bedside cabinet. The boy’s had struck the wall. The room was in shambles around all three of them, and the two adults had other marks on them. A bruise on a cheek and fingerprints in both wrists. Swollen knuckles and broken blisters. Definitely a fight but how much of it had been a drug-induced age and how much of it had already been going on?

But that didn’t matter, did it? The Maebaras were simply told the family of three had died with the rest of Hinamizawa. The public cover-up version at that. Because that was kinder: saying a volcano had gone off in the area and the toxic sulphur fumes had drifted down to the village and killed its citizens. Better than saying the government had wiped them out. Better than saying there were skeletons buried in the closet and having another man obsessed with uncovering the truth.

Not that this was going to stop _him_ from attempting to uncover the truth. And maybe he’d search for these other truths along the way, the things that would bug him like they’d bug any good police officer and had a bit of a connection on a more personal level as well. Especially the death of Furude Rika. They couldn’t explain that away at all. And the drug they couldn’t find, that mightn’t even exist but was now directly responsible for two deaths and indirectly for another two – or three –

Where were all the answers in the world?


	12. Epilogue

 

This world was a failure too.

She wanted to save them. She so badly wanted to save them but she’d failed.

It had been Keiichi’s turn. She’d called that from the start but she hadn’t been able to control the game board well enough. Stopped Keiichi leaving. Stopped the parasite in his mind from waking up that day but it had woke up anyway. Or had it? It was hard to know. And hard to know if it even mattered.

She’d done too much. And too little. She hadn’t been there when Keiichi had fallen down the stairs but how easily it could have all gone wrong. He could have hit his head, or broken his neck. He could’ve been dead when his parents scooped him off the ground. He’d been lucky to get away with just a shattered kneecap. Lucky to be forced to walk on crutches for at least two months – but he’d never make it to the end. She’d died. Hinamizawa Syndrome would swallow up the town of two thousand and he’d be loss to the mass hysteria, the mass madness just like everyone else, just like Mion and Rena and Satoko and her only saving grace was that, in this world at least, none of them had gotten mixed up with the circumstances of the cursed.

But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Rena had, sort of. She’d seen the painting and it had frightened her, frightened her badly. And she’d frightened Keiichi, who’d in turn gone to Mion seeking answers. And Mion had given them as best she could – and at least that hadn’t gone pear-shaped like it did in almost every world.

The one seeking answers was the one that was cursed. That made her the most heavily cursed of them all, seeking them in each and every world.

Seeking them…and never finding them.

.

The crystals overlapped. This world joined the other tried and failed worlds.

The things that were the same between them: the deaths and disappearances of the first few years, regardless of what little things changed in between them; the deaths of Tomitake and Takano in the fifth year; her own death some days later though the number of days varied.

The differences: sometimes Keiichi was in Hinamizawa in Showa 58 and sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes Rena returned in Showa 57 and sometimes she did not. Sometimes Shion arrived in May or June of Showa 58 and sometimes she did not. The club activities changed every time. The game at the toy store only changed if Keiichi wasn’t there (and now she’d proved that could occur even with Keiichi in Hinamizawa). The person in which the parasite was stirring in June of Showa 58 was different.

And then there were the assumptions. The deaths were always the same, and yet the parasite awoke in different people, sometimes. That meant the parasites were a natural phenomenon, based on luck and uncontrollable, while the deaths had a force of will behind them. Not whimsical like Mion’s club activities. Meticulously planned like the toy store tournament.

Somebody planned her death. Just like somebody planned the death of her father and the disappearance of her mother, the death of Satoko’s father and the disappearance of Satoko’s mother – but that was one of the holiest theories. That and the death of Satoko’s aunt and the disappearance of her brother.

Satoko had had level five Hinamizawa Syndrome at the time of her parents. Doctor Irie believed there was no doubt she’d pushed her parents from the cliff under that influence. He and Nurse Takano (and Rena, ignorant though she was) were also fairly sure Satoshi had succumbed to level five Hinamizawa Syndrome when he disappeared. Whether that was before or after his aunt’s murder was another story. She hadn’t borne witness them. And now there was no hope of saving the people from those four years, even if she solved the riddle.

.

A new crystal appeared. Her next destination. She was in no rush though. She had time. She could think things over. Hanyu would wait as long as necessary and the power, the pathway, the door was there.

_Will you try again?_

She would. She was still sure she would. She’d failed. But she’d learnt a few new things. That she had to watch out for more than just her friends directly. She had to watch out for their families as well. The people around them. The whole of HInamizawa through that ripple effect. Had to watch out for them all because she was the only one who knew the horror that was waiting for them all.

And then Yamainu. They’d failed to save Takano, but that could mean anything from them dismissing her words as the words of a child or being unable to combat such a force. She should have checked to see if they’d existed in the aftermath of Takano’s murder as well, but she hadn’t. But she could do that in another world, if she failed again.

Making plans for her next failure. Was that how flimsy her hope was?

And she needed a better way to keep the Maebaras in Hinamizawa once they arrived. Delay that part at least. And then maybe Keiichi wouldn’t be as fragile as Rena was, as Shion was. But how? _Howhowhow –_

She breathed. The crystals didn’t have the answers. They would be in new worlds. Future worlds.

She would find the one that held their happily ever after ending.

She breathed again. And touched the crystal.

It rippled and swallowed her, and she awoke at the start of the February of Showa 58.

It wouldn’t be long before the Watanagushi festival arrived again. And her death. Again.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, j40 – write the backstory of a character whose backstory is not well explored (well, the story's more than that, but it was still a good opportunity to use the prompt), and for the 100 Prompts, up to 100 MCs Challegne, #44 – unprofitable. And it's also my July 2016 Camp NaNo fic! Was actually finished in July. Just tapered off on the posting...


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